A coming storm
by Raindrenched-stories
Summary: Steadily Green Flu is spreading. Now making it's way towards the boarder and crossing into Canada. As people evacuate in mass, two women make a decision that could cost them the ultimate price. Sometimes things go well. Sometimes they don't. This story will include a few unused special infected. As well as some cameos here and there.
1. Troubling signs

Pam lay on the ground. She was sure three ribs were cracked. Her right leg was numb. Gone? She turned her head to glance at it, bleary. No. Her leg was still there. But boy, would it need work if she ever wanted to use it again.

She could hear the massive brute roar as it trundled through their defenses. She wasn't even sure how it happened. Where it came from. How did she get in this mess again? What was that thing?

Right. It was a tank. Green flu hit. And it was just her and her best friend against hoards of zombies. She groaned. Moving to stand before the commons could pick off what was left of her. Burning pain seared up her leg and into her hip. She whimpered. But drew her rifle to her side.

She could hear her friend firing bullets like a mad woman. Screaming for her to get up. To please not die. Pam drew her weapon to her shoulder. "HEY! UGLY!"

It turned to her. Fuming. Charging her down. It was in this moment, she started to reflect on their decisions. On what got them into this damn mess. As she aimed for the only weak spot she could see. And fired.  
*

"WE COULD GET ARRESTED FOR THIS!" Pam staggered, slipping and tripping back. The door of the shower slammed in her face. Locking her in the small lavatory.

"ROXY!" She screeched. Slamming her fist against the hard plastic of the small room.

"What!? You've never gone mud bogging in an RV before!?" The woman laughed maniacally. Pam just sprawled against the room wide eyed. It was a good thing she was in a glorified outhouse. Because she was feeling sick.

"We're going to tip at this rate!" Pam finally slammed her way out the door scrambling for her insane friend.

She was easily knocked into the passenger seat with a sharp turn. Roxy had decided it'd be amazing to take an Old RV and rip it through town with and towards the nearest mudflat she could find.

Pam was genuinely amazed they weren't being followed by the police. In fact they didn't seam to be the only ones driving like maniacs today. Glancing out the window she eyed several vehicles filled with odd amounts of supplies. Children packed up like little luggage cases.

"Hey um... In't the traffic kind of weird today?" She glanced at Roxy, who was just noticing the same thing.

"Yyyyeaaah. Turn on the radio would ya?" Pam obliged with a small huff.

*Report unusual behavior, and barricade your homes. And avoid all contact with infected individuals. We will return to you with official instructions as to how to evacuate shortly.* The girls glanced at one another.

"Turn the channel over. Maybe we can get more info." Roxy slowed her pace and made a turn for home. If they were going to evacuate, they had to pack shit up first.

Pam switched the channels and froze when she finally caught the news. *-Green flu has somehow jumped the border. Officials believe an infected refugee is to blame for the spread. However no official statement has been made. Authorities say that the outbreak will be slowed significantly by the over all topography. However, the major cities close to the border are being evacuated as an extra measure.*

Pams palm slammed into the dash. "Evacuate my ass! Where are we going to go? Inland? What happens when we over crowd there?"

Roxy grimaced. Slowing outside their homes. "They said major cities. So... We don't have to go immediately. Maybe we can hole out a while?"

"We're right on the border Rox. I mean RIGHT the fuck on the border. We can't afford NOT to move." The RV slowed to a halt. Both women leaning back.

"So... Let's make a plan." The smaller woman suggested.

"Right. First up. Google. Let's figure out how hard we're being hit. We'll make a plan from there." They pulled into Pams drive and almost instantly she whipped the laptop out.

Rox crossed the street in the RV and began loading it with everything they'd need. Food, water, shot gun. The essentials. With all her research in place, Pam heaved a sigh. Making her way out the moment she could.

"How bad?" Her friend just stared at her. Eyes twitching with worry.

"We're in an Okay spot. It's not ideal, but it's going to last us. Actually. You remember the old property my Nanna had?"

"You still got the deed to it?"

"Yeah. It's got a well. It's got good farm land. We could set it up nice and pretty. Keep the RV in case we need to bug out." She headed back in. Packing the essencials.

Each trip up the rough path to the old farm was long. Agonizing. With people fleeing the cities and towns in a frantic blur. They moved what ever they could. Spending the night in the RV.

Pam woke to Roxy leaning on the window. "I haven't seen a car for about three hours now." She mumbled. "Coffee's on the table."

"You saint." Pam snatched up her cup and sat down across from Roxy. "What's in your head?"

"We can't just garden to survive this. What if there's a blight? Or a poor yield?" She gazed over the large orchard that only really bore fruit in the summer.

"Okay. So you're suggesting?" She quirked a brow.

"We're going to look around. See if we can't find any livestock someone left." Roxy nodded once.

Pams face scrunched up, a grimace crossing her features. She set her mug down for a moment. "Yeah. Okay. But even they have their seasons."

The redhead glared at her. "You got a better idea?" Roxy's tone was low. Not exactly threatening, but Pam knew this woman long enough. It was when she didn't sound dangerous that she was at her most.

"No ma'm." Pam took another long drink from the warm liquid. How long would they even have this for? Coffee? Thoughts for later.

"Then we gotta go. Did you sell the old truck?" Roxy eyed the garage with a sigh.

"No. Couldn't find a buyer. Still have a trailer too... We should set up defenses." She leaned on the wall. Curling up.

Rox stood, patting Pams shoulder with a forced smile. "Tell you what. We'll scrap some of the places that aren't occupied."

Making their way into town. There was an eerie silence. Neither of the girls had brought a weapon. They'd yet to see a single infected. There was no real reason to carry one for now. Besides, it was better to save the ammo.

Breaking into a pet store was their first decision, once they'd found the right one. Pam took a carrier from the back wall. Using her height to her advantage for once. Typical of any back water town, there was a healthy supply of young chicks. Little hens and roosters in the making happily scampered up to see what kind of foods were available.

Sweeping the carrier down, Pam began scooping them in systematically. They'd require work. And food. Luckily chickens were surprisingly effective hunters. All they needed was a decent place to roam. Hopefully they wouldn't run out of grain...Grain. "Hey. Grab a cat!"

"You're allergic!" Roxy had carried several bags of different kibbles and feeds into the truck. Loading it heavily. It was almost comical, watching the shorter woman wobble away two or three heavy bags.

Pam Shook her head. She was going to have to deal with the sniffles for a while. That would be fine. They were going to be mostly outdoor cats anyhow. "I'll deal. We don't want mice in the feed."

Roxy scanned the cages and crates until she heard two tiny voices mewling. She grinned, reaching into the little pen. "What do we want? Orange tabby or a fancy pants?" The woman lifted two kittens by the scruff.

"Those the only two?" Pam judged the kittens heavily, leaning back. They both LOOKED healthy. She'd have to pick up some kind of book on veterinary medicine.

"Yep." Rox flicked her gaze between them.

"Take 'em both. Hell take anything you think we can keep. It's all going to be useful SOMEHOW." She pulled a carrier down for the kittens. Smiling at both bundles of fur a moment.

The girls continued their scavenging for a while longer. being sure to pick the store clean of anything they could use. This included some of the medicines on the counters. Pam became so focused on the task at hand, she hadn't noticed her companions disappearance around a corner. Until... "THERE'S A PIG!" Roxy scrambled back, nearly climbing Pam to get out of the way.

"GAH wait! wha- When... HUH?" The taller woman was ushered like a shield to a small enclosure around the corner. Pams eyes landed on the pen, a portly little pot belly pig investigated the pair. "...Just the one?"

Roxy ducked behind her back. Scowling from behind the lankier woman. "Who cares!? We are NOT taking it!" She snarled.

Pam couldn't help but snicker. Turning to her friend. "You like bacon don't you?"

She received a smack on the back of the head. The shorter woman fuming. "You know I hate pigs!"

"Alright I'll deal with it. But meat's meat. If we can find another it'll be worth keeping. Breeding even! If not...Bacon. Sad to say." She lifted the animal with no small amount of effort.

In the end, they had dozens of animals locked in the house and barn. They even managed to rescue a very small head of cattle from an abandoned ranch. Though. How long they could feed them for, was iffy.

Pam had almost immediately gone to building basic defenses. Heaving a long sigh. She had managed to load a rescued dog up with supplies. It just seamed overjoyed to be included. Tongue hanging out as it stared at the woman adoringly.

"Well Scraps." She pulled a hammer from the dogs bag and began nailing another heavy beam onto the developing wall. "We haven't a lot of time to do this. So if you need to take a rest. I don't wanna hear it."


	2. Important choices

It had been three weeks after the evacuation. Most of the girls' time was spent scavenging supplies and farming. What time was left was used studying and fortifying the little ranch. It hardly had any room to it. Both Pam and Roxy had measured. 5 acres in use.

Roxy blinked. Then leaned heavily on Pams shoulder. A habit the two had formed over a lifetime of friendship. "You knoooooow~"

Pam took a wary sip of coffee. Arching a brow. "Hm?" She knew that tone well. That was the sound of a bad idea forming. In her younger years, that was something the woman would have grinned over. Now? Now it was a dreaded warning. Like an air raid.

"We're looking at this wrong." Roxy sentenced. Waving a hand around madly. "Everyone evacuated. We looked. So that means there's no property line."

Pam froze up. Blinking in realization. "Yeah. Okay. But we can't fortify that much. We can't look after all that shit on our own. There's only the two of us." She motioned in a vague direction.

"And what happens if the army goes full Savanna on our asses? What happens if they decide to kill the problem now...God we should have just..." Dread rose in Pam's stomach. It was the first time she even thought of this. Sadly. Saying it out loud just made it seam more real.

"We're in a small town in the sticks. You REALLY think the old folks didn't build a bomb shelter?" The smaller woman folded her arms. Glaring.

That, wasn't what Pam had meant. She sighed. Turning to her cup again for comfort. "...Fair point. But that doesn't address my earlier complaint."

"We'll burn that bridge when we get there! Now. Let's hook that bull up to a plow and get moving!" The menace tore off. Leaving Pam to nervously slurp back yet another swing of coffee. She swore the air was getting too tense.

It took them forever to quit fighting over what would be more efficient for plowing the 'fields'. Pam had argued for the tractor. However, Roxy had raised a valid point. Rust. And plenty of it. In the end, they had no choice but the disagreeable animal really. If they could find a good draft horse in their savaging. They'd snatch it up in a heart beat.

Breaking the bull for the job had been less then pleasant, and the task became grueling. Even the work they put into the barns and fields had become tiresome. The infection would hit any day now. Even though they were safe for now, the zombies were traveling.

The small town a short ways off had gone quiet. Not in a good way. Though the majorities migrated the hell out of the way; a few people had dug in. Like ticks on a less than agreeable host. The girls often wondered if she wasn't doing the same thing.

What work the girls had done, was always done with a gun slung over someone's shoulder. The ladies had to constantly stop and check their flanks. The early mornings were spent listening to the radio and checking online. While they still had internet to stay in touch.

Pam trudged forward. She was tempted to dump the cold last of her beverage. But there would be no room for addictions in the near future. May as well savor what she had now. Hell. If it weren't for Roxy, she's have a few harder addictions to suffer through in all this.

It took hours. Trudging through the muck with a stubborn animal. One woman would steady the make shift till behind the bull. The other would pull the animal forward. On more than one occasion they slipped into the fresh dirt. When they finally gave up, they seeded what they had.

As it turned out. They managed half an acre in a day. Not too bad. But not great. They made a point to lock the animals in for the night, and double check the fences. Pam took one last glance out the borders they'd set for themselves.

"Maybe we should have evacuated." She glanced over to Roxy with a small sigh. Her friend simply shook her head. Normally Roxy had her brain on straight. But when it came to this, something kept the women in place. Kept them still.

"Pam...What if they were infected too? Or worse... What if people go crazy? Things like this...It changes people." She fidgeted with a curl of hair. Pam grimaced, leaning on the fortified fence. It was shoddy work at best. Made of paneling from scavenged homes and barbed wire. It would keep commons out just fine, there was no way they could climb over. But...

"We don't really have a plan for this." She remarked.

"We'll figure something out."

As the sun illuminated the tips of the mountains, a fresh steam rolled through the living room. Pams eye cracked open slowly. Coffee. They really should be rationing it. But the sense of normality helped settle her mind.

"We got Bacon!" Roxy brandished the frying pan full of pork before her. A grin wide on her face. "And eggs! Best to use up the fresh stuff before it all goes. Anything you want?" The sudden shouting startled both kittens from their nuzzled position against Pams sides. Scraps just watched the frying pan longingly from the couch.

Pam smirked. Doing her very best Zombie impression, she wheezed "Cooofeeeee".

"You keep that up and Imma' shoot you." The short woman waved an oh so deadly spatula in her face.

"Yes mam." Thankfully receiving a fresh cup of bean juice. Staggering her way to sit in the Kitchen with Roxy. Pam managed to sprawl across an old wooden chair at the table while Roxy sat on the counter. Watching the window.

"...I spotted one today. By the way." The smaller womans shoulders dropped. She looked tired. Crestfallen.

Pam just froze mid sip. "Bacon with a side of bad news huh? Well. We knew it would happen some time." She sighed. That bacon was starting to look kind of like a distant memory now. Despite the abundance.

A long silence past before Pam worked up the courage to ask. "Any one we knew?"

"Grady." Roxy sighed.

"Damn! He was a looker. Even if he was dumb as a brick."

"Well... That improved at least." The smaller woman grinned. They shared a bitter sweet laugh, turning back to their mugs.

"If you still want to evacuate. I got the truck running." Rox leaned back, propping her foot on the table with a sigh. An awkward position to be sure.

Pams hands clasped around her cup. Gradually warming herself from the early morning chill. She stared into the liquid. "Nah. I hate people. And besides. A lot of folks are still flooding up from the states. Looking to escape this mess. Might be best if someone stayed behind to look after 'em. Give them rations and directions."

She forced herself onto her legs. Offering a hand to Rox with a small grin. "C'mon. We're burning daylight. And turn that truck off! No point wastin' gas."


	3. Reality sets in

Pam awoke. Untangling her hair from the odds and ends of jewelry she had adorned herself in. It was one of the few luxuries she could still keep. Not many monsters were interested in shiny things and there were very few survivors that made their way out. Many of them were too preoccupied with leaving to take note of the small settlement the girls were building. Those that did, weren't there for looting purposes.

With that in mind, Pam rose from her bed and scrounged together a breakfast. Taking note of a list of chores the women had made the night before. The fields were as done as they could be. Seeing as Rox was already up, Pam guessed the animals had been fed. A small noise from one of the rescued animals confirmed this.

A dog lay sprawled out on the floor next to a food dish. Licked clean but there were a few crumbs of dry kibble surrounding his muzzle. "Take it you're happy?" The long, whip like tail of the hunting pup thumped lazily on the floor. A lazy fuzzy grin coming over the animal.

Jamming what was left of breakfast down into her mouth and downing a cold cup of coffee, Pam made for the door. Last person awake had the ugly job. Dealing with the fence.

Scraps happily sprung up to trail after her. Tail now swinging a mile a minute. Pam made a point to place a satchel over the pups middle and fasten it. Filling the pack with equipment for repairs should they be necessary. As well as a tennis ball.

She adjusted, then strapped a tool belt around her hips. Making sure to take inventory. Finally the pair left. Picking a point and beginning their arduous patrol. Every so often they'd have to shove a corpse off the wall. Or finish a stray infected off. There weren't many to deal with as of yet. But the few that came were drawn in by the sound of livestock.

"DAMN YOU UNCLE BOB!" Pam glanced back, starting to wonder if she should save the RV from the wrath of Roxy. Her new found swearing fit disturbed the most recent live infected caught over the wall, and tangled in barbed wire. It snarled and struggled. Reaching for her.

A yellow handled hand ax slammed into it's skull carelessly. "You know scraps? I'm starting to think the most dangerous thing in this whole apocalypse is her." Pam chuckled.

The dog perked up, but left her for the most part ignored. As it turned out, the springer spaniel thought it's self more a cat, then a dog. Still. It proved useful in many places. Mostly as a little pack mule.

Though, Pam found she could use him to flush out game from the brush surrounding the farm. As far as their little animal rescue went, he was the most useful critter of the lot. As well, he could smell live infected faster than she could see them.

Laughing it off, Pam followed the string of curses leaning on the garage door. Staring down the near satanic mechanic. "So...What did Uncle bob leave you with now?"

"I can't believe I drove this thing! Fucker's a death trap." She had been hard at work on the engine and the sight of an angry short woman on an unstable step ladder had given Pam quite the giggle.

Sighing, Pam decided to offer assistance. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"YEAH! You go find my uncle Bob's Zombie corps, and drag the fucker here so I can beat his ass!" A monkey wrench waggled at her from the safe distance of the womans hand.

Pam chortled quietly to her self, turning on her heal. "I'll get back to it then." She returned to knocking the last of the infected bodies away. Though, a female infected gave her pause. She examined this one. It seamed to be missing it's eyes.

Something wicked had dragged it's claws over the former womans head. It looked like it had a hell of a fight. Faintly, Pam could hear something growling. She checked scraps. It wasn't the dog. Though his hackles were raised high.

"Oh don't you fucking tell me." A howling shriek sounded. Something vaulted it's self straight at the fence, slamming into it, then leaping again. It landed behind her. Pam just had enough time to back track before it pounced again.

She was knocked to the ground. In a desperate move, she managed to kick her foot out and keep the thing at bay. The creature swung wildly attempting to tear into her. Pam's first response was to scream for help. It came out a warbled cry however as a stray swipe caught something. Getting firmly hooked in the golden loop of her earring.

Frustrated, the creature tugged viciously attempting to free it's caught pinkie finger. In one last attempt he ripped it free. Now adorned with a nice new ring. Pam screamed. A gunshot cracked through the air and the form pinning her to the ground slumped. The only movement came from Scraps attempting to rip it's leg off. She kicked it away and rolled out from under the corpse still screaming.

"My ear's fucked! My ear's FUCKED!" She kept repeating. She was silenced when a hand firmly clasped around her mouth. Another dragged her to her feet. The smaller woman had to half carry, half drag a staggering Pam across the feild and into the house.

Shoving her to a chair, Roxy gripped her chin, turning her head so as to look at the injury. Pam's earlobe had been shredded in the attack. But if that was all that was damaged, she'd be okay. It wasn't a fatal injury. "You got really fucking lucky."

"I DON'T FEEL LUCKY!" Pam wailed. She was desperately trying to clutch her ruined ear as Rox fought to keep her hands away. It felt worse than it was. It was jarring. As she could feel hot liquid pour down from her injury.

It stung, and burned. Almost an unreasonable amount for such a small thing. Why did it hurt so much? She'd had worse. Drove a nail through her thumb once, even. Hell, she pierced her ears herself the first time. Why did this feel so much bigger than it was? It was near unfathomable.

"Alright. Alright. Just...Just stay there. DON'T touch it. I'm going to get the first aid." She sped off to the living room quietly whispering "Oh god please let the internet still be working."

It was about two hours later. Pam sat at the table with a mug of coco in her hands. Her ear still hurt. Despite the aspirin. To make matters worse. The reality of their situation was once again setting in. If they didn't react. If they weren't fast enough. Either one of them could die.

Pam took a sip of her coco. A stuttering breath following. She could have died. She was lucky. This time. But what about next time? Would she even make it to see the next week? How about the next day? They should have left while they still could have.

Scraps sat with his chin rested on her lap. Pams eyes lazily found the dog. A hand slowly crept down and stroked his head. Yeah. They could have left. Then what? The infection would continue to close in. Someone hiding their symptoms would infect someone else. And the nightmare would continue. It would be a meat grinder.

Their chances were about the same either way. What did it matter if they stayed out in the sticks like this? The screen door opened. Pam gazed up as Roxy entered the building. Recovering Pams equipment. She dropped something gold onto the table. The earring she's lost.

"I...I didn't know if you wanted that back or not." The other woman sat across from her. There was a somber silence in the room. Somewhere in the living room, one of the cats was purring. Or snoring. It didn't matter.

Finally, Pam broke the tension with a laugh. It was hollow, but honest. "We're so fucking stupid." She gasped through the fit.

"Considering I just took apart the RV. Yeah." Roxy grumbled, letting her frame sag until her chin rested in the crook of her arm.

"no no! Not that." Pam snickered. "Look at our god damn wall! Of course one of those jumpy jackasses could spring over. What were we thinking?" Pam slammed her mug onto the table. Causing Scraps to jerk back.

Roxy stared at her friend. Trying to asses whether or not she'd gone mad. "And if a Tank blew through here? We'd be royally screwed!" She fell out of her chair in her apparent bout of insanity.

"Okaaaaay. Do we need some NyQuil or something? Have a nice little nap?" Rox leaned over with clear confusion as Pam attempted to fend off an overly smoochy dog.

The woman took a few deep breaths and waggled a hand in the air. Pushing herself up to meet with Roxy's eyes. "No no... Well, maybe. But look. There's nothing else I can do right now but laugh. There's nothing I can do but look at our mistakes and take it with humor. I almost fucking died."

Roxy paused. Sitting back down. Pam Joined her. "You... You have a point." The smaller woman conceded.

The two sat there awkwardly. "So... About the wall." Pam folded her arms. Roxy hummed leaning her chin on her palm. Neither of them really had their heads on the future. Instead they both turned their focus to the recent events.

Pam glared at the garbage can. On the top lay a slightly coco dusted cotton and paper towel. Soaked through with rubbing alcohol and blood. Rox on the other hand stared at the gauze and tape that Pams covered ear.

The two women sighed. Pam began removing the rest of her jewelry. Something she should have done the moment they heard about the infection. This included the other earrings that lined the cartilage. The ones the 'Hunter' didn't manage to rip.

She dropped these to the table to join the single ring. A reminder of their mortality. "Think we can find something sturdy enough to hold one of those hairless gorillas back?"

Roxy paused. Thinking for just a moment. "Weeeeeelll. remember I said something about bomb shelters? And my uncle Bob?"

"Off to the nut house?"

"Yay-verily"

Pam patted the table and stood. "I'll get a gun."


	4. My undead uncle

Despite the finality of the decision. The girls made several preparations before heading to Bob's residence They waited until early the next morning. Just as the sunlight painted the back roads an ashy grey.

"Cloudy today." Pam remarked. She was tired. Oh so tired. Every time she turned the wrong way in her sleep, she was graced with a new wave of pain blooming from her damaged ear. Because of this, she maybe got four to five hours. Maybe.

Now she rested her chin on her palm watching the world slowly pass by. The black truck rumbled down the abandoned back roads. The woman drummed her fingers on her cheek. She hadn't said much after her bout of insanity the day before.

Roxy sighed. "Yep. Think we'll get rain?" A few fat droplets splattered against the windshield, answering her question. Pam just smirked. It was lucky they hadn't let the animals out yet.

"Should have brought a hat." The taller woman eyed the source of the rain with a smile. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad. The fields would be watered for free. That was a good thing. Maybe the ground would be too wet for those springy mother fuckers to properly jump. Or aim.

They weren't ready for what they saw. Sitting outside Bob's yard, happened to be a few dozen infected. All with faces Roxy sadly recognized. "Shit… There's my mom. And my auntie June…Oh…Little cousin Jeremy." The girl fell back. Pam paused. Bewildered at them all.

"You have to be shitting me!" The infected milled about. Not noticing the vehicle at hand. They seamed more occupied with beating the piss out of one another. It gave Roxy time to have a good cry. All the while Pam soothed a hand over her back and muttered little comforts.

The two women sat in silence a while before Roxy heaved a sigh. "Hey Pam?"

"Yeah?"

"You still remember how to break into a house? Or were you too coked out of your mind?" It wasn't a subject Roxy brought up much. Pam didn't like to talk about it. But her history of drug abuse actually came into play now. She heaved a sigh.

"You're asking now?…Yeah. But it'll make a shit ton of noise for a second. If he has decent locks. And that's only assuming he didn't install an alarm." She sighed. Reaching for the back seat and pulling a bottle of water out for each woman. They both took a long sip before Roxy spoke again.

"He didn't. Superstitious bastard thought they were government monitoring devices." She patted the steering wheal scanning the remains of her family. "I don't see Bob. Good news is, I also don't see any specials."

Pam watched the infected for a moment before searching the glove compartment. She pulled an old mixtapeCD from it's place. Closing the compartment. She then passed it to Roxy.

She looked it over sighing. "Nickelback? Seriously?" She nudged Pams arm with a laugh.

"Oh sue me. Look I did something like this a few times. Only with the police. I want you to roll the windows down a bit and crank this. These things are sound sensitive so they're going to follow you." Pam pointed down the road a bit.

"I want you to drive a few miles up the road. Slow enough that they can keep up. Fast enough so they don't catch you. When you're far enough away speed up and kill the music. Take the main road back and come back here. I'll have every thing I can piled up next to the door and waiting for you." She instructed.

Roxy just stared at her dumbfounded. "Oh fuck that! I'm not leaving you. We don't know if there's infected in the house! I'll agree to most of the plan but you're coming with me." She slammed the CD into the player as fast as it would go.

Pam couldn't argue with good sense really. So she sat back. Rolling her window down enough for the rough guitars to start screaming out and be heard. The engine roared in challenge as the infected spilled over the short garden fence outside Bob's beat up old shack. They sped in reverse and whipped around.

One They drove just fast enough to make the bastards run. Pam slapped the dashboard in time with the music singing along loudly. Roxy was cackling like some demented witch as the hoards spilled around one another.

They gunned it once the hoard was far enough to lose interest in the house killing the music. Roxy took the turn a little too sharply and ended up fish tailing to correct the vehicle. However, the plan worked flawlessly.

As they pulled into the driveway once more the two women held their rifles ready. Pam was the first out. Checking the bushes for any unwelcome visitors. Once they got to the door, the shorter woman gave it a jiggle. No luck.

Pam sighed. Examining the door. The window seamed low enough. Sure there were a few bars on the inside but…Those were always too wide to actually stop anything. Taking the butt of her rifle, she slammed it into the glass.

Her rewards was a spiderweb of cracks. Roxy apparently had been looking elsewhere as she took the initiative too soon. Reaching to unlock the door through the hole only to awkwardly slap the cracking glass.

"So um…" Pam began.

"Not another word."

After a few more strikes the glass finally blew inward. They unlocked the deadbolt and chain before slipping in silently. Closing the door behind them. Even if they were certain the infected were gone, they weren't taking any chances.

"Okay I think he- do you hear laughter?" Pam paused in response to this. Sure enough a constant stream of deranged giggling rung through the house. The two women glanced at one another. Pam murmured a few well chosen curses under her breath.

"What ever you do. If it jumps ya. Shut your eyes. Learn from my mistakes." Pam urged as they crept through the room. Sadly the laughter was on the move. And closing in. The two women held their guns at the ready. Waiting for the little monster to show it's face.

Something slammed onto Roxy's shoulders and she began firing wildly. Causing Pam to scramble well out of the way while the small howling menace began it's assault. "FUUUUH"

"Roxy just! Lemme! HANG ON YOU IDIOT!"The gun fire stopped only when the barrel was empty. Much to Pams relief as the panicked woman began her struggle. She didn't want to risk shooting and so began to assault the thing with the butt of her rifle.

Occasionally she's smack the shorter woman, however eventually they managed to knock the little bugger off. One final shot From Pams rifle and the Jockey lay still. A large hole in it's chest.

Both women stood there gasping for air. They stared dumbfounded at each other. "So uh… That just happened." Roxy reloaded her gun, turning away and avoiding eye contact. Pam cleared her throat. Nudging the corpse' head.

"This may be a bad time but… I think this is your uncle Bob."

It took a solid three solid hours to load the truck up. And sadly the ruckus from earlier had drawn a small trio of undead their way. Fortunately it was only the three. The women took little time returning home and closing the gate behind themselves. There wasn't much they could do in the rain, sadly. Asside from throw a tarp over the building materials.

"Okay. So as long as the power doesn't go out we're set now. Right?" Roxy was trying to remain hopeful. To push Pam forward. Pam, on the other hand, grimaced. Pealing the gauze away from her ear in order to change it. She also sat Roxy down to clean off what scratches she'd gained from her fight with Bob.

"Even if the power goes out, we have a generator. It might need gas though." She checked the new wrappings on her ear and applied a few small bandages to Roxy's little scrapes.

"And you say I got lucky. Look at you little miss hardly even felt it." She folded her arms grinning. Roxy on the other hand, had her face scrunched up in thought.

"Paaaam?" That tone. It said it all before Roxy could even finish her statement. Neither of them thought to stock up on gas. Fortunately their little ghost town had a gas station. One that Roxy quite wonderfully had a spare set of keys for. Thanks to looting her dear old uncle.

With their little gas canisters, the woman raided the store. Once that ran dry? There was a town full of abandoned cars. Once that went? Well they'd think of something. Worst case scenario, the two could jury-rig some alternate type of engine.

It didn't take them long to return home. Unloading the supplies into the house where it was secure. Despite this. Roxy leaned on the door frame. She drummed her fingers in a scattered, agitated pattern. "What's up?"

Pam nudged her with a mug of tea. The woman took it and took a long sip. Heaving a sigh. "That's my family…Just wandering. Infected…Zombies. What if…What if one of us turns?"

"You've seen a Zombie movie or two. You know what needs to happen." Pam deadpanned. It wasn't a nice thought. Nor was the realization that the rain was getting harder. They were in for some nasty weather. It seamed.


	5. A new kind of mediocrity

Nasty weather was an understatement. The next day lightning had crackled through the air. Pam worried somewhat that it would catch something on fire. Now that she took the time to think of it. One forest fire could be the end of them. Just one.

Not only that, but the wind caused some unexpected damages. A large Poplar tree slammed down on their fence. Causing both women to scramble to get out side and remove it. Fearing the infected using it as a ramp to get inside. With the lack of a chainsaw, the Pam had to hack at it with an old axe. Long since dull.

"We're going to learn how to sharpen these fucking things!" She screeched over the raging storm. Roxy on the other hand had been tying a few lengths of rope to the part inside the fence. The plan was to use it for firewood.

With one final swing the large tree snapped in half. They'd have to clamber around and move the other side soon. But it was cold, and wet. There wasn't much more they could handle. "Fucking apocalypse. Fucking storm. Fucking…FUCK!"

Pam kicked the fence and gained a nice rip in her jeans from the low barbed wire. She hissed in anger, storming back to the house. The animals staying safely within the barn huddled together. She could see a stray muzzle sticking out of a small window on the structure. One of the heifers snorted idly and brought her nose back inside where it was warm.

"Toasty mother fucking cows. Goddamned zombies." She took up the coars fibers of the rope and dug her heals into the mud alongside her smaller friend They just had to move it away from the fence. Then it was on to the other side in the morning to move the other half.

They dropped the tree off a little ways from the barn. Panting and gasping for air. Both women gave one another a long, contemplating look. "If we leave it for the morning… They'll come in over night. Won't they?" Pam grumbled.

"Yeah…Boobs up, balls out. Let's go move a tree and possibly get eaten." Roxy removed her end of the rope and Pam followed suit. Both with a rifle out. They'd have to fall what wasn't knocked down by the storm another day. Maybe make some shelter out of it. Maybe fire wood.

Fortunately, there weren't many infected. Apparently it was easier to take shelter from the storm. Or maybe something else drew them away. They never took direct interest in the house anyways. They always seamed to just get caught up in the fence because it was just there.

Moving the other half of the tree was actually easier than the first. Given the lack of branches and twigs to both weight it down and snag. As they dragged the heavy wood away from the fence, Pam started to survey the area. Too many trees were too close to them. They'd have to do something about it… Eventually.

Once the last of the fallen tree hand been safely relocated both women trudged inside the house. Drying themselves off. "One more of those and we are FUCKED" Roxy threw her towel across the room. Startling scraps from his spot on the floor. The dog yelped and slunk to hide behind the sofa.

"Rox… Um." She was frozen in place by a sharp glare. The shorter woman stormed out of the room. Leaving Pam utterly bewildered. They were both pissed over the storm. Over the whole situation. However, it seamed to be hitting Roxy much harder.

Pam followed her into the room. "Roxy… Are you… Are you okay?"

"No." The woman flopped into her folded arms. "Pam… I get it. You aren't close with your family. I know that."

Pam jerked back a bit. But moved to sit at the kitchen table. Next to Roxy with an arm tentatively slung over her shoulders. "I know that. BUT I WAS! I was close to mine. And now they're all fucking zombies. They're out there… Rotting away. And…We only recognized one or two at a time. And never someone so close and now…"

Pam ran her hand over the womans back slowly. Taking a long breath, she pulled Roxy into a hug. "I know. For me… It's hard to look at but… I can't imagine what's going on in your head."

"That's my family." Roxy buried her head in Pams shoulder sobbing heavily. The woman just sat there silently. There wasn't much Pam could do. The world was coming down around them and Roxy knew just about everybody they saw. They sat like that for hours until Rox went limp. Apparently having cried herself to sleep.

Pam scooped her up. And placed her in her room. Tucking a few extra fluffy blankets around her. She was so worried about her dear friend. She stumbled to the living room slowly. Sitting on the couch and staring out at the falling rain. So much had happened. It wasn't like she could change it.

was something she could do to make it better. At least a little bit.

The next morning Pam fell out of bed. Music blasted at an excruciating level from the kitchen. Both cats they'd rescued scrambled into Roxy's room and stuffed themselves as far as they could under her blankets.

Pam's voice crackled loudly along with the music from the same direction. "-Off the rails on a-" Roxy took firm hold of her pillow. Storming down the stairs brandishing the fluffy thing like some form of great cleaver.

However. The music shut off the moment she entered the room. Pam leaned on the counter grinning. The room smelled of coffee and cookies. It didn't spare Pam a pillow flung full force to the face. She let off a small laugh as the offending puff fell to the floor.

"Morning! There's coffee and I was just about to make waffles." She turned to collect her own mug from the counter.

"What's the occasion?" Roxy gave a wary glare as Pam sipped casually. "What's the occasion?"

Pams eyebrows waggled a little. "Well. I was thinking about what you said last night and~" Pam took another sip before staring out the window. "It's the mother fucking apocalypse. Right? Why don't we have a little fun?"

"Such as?" Rox sat down with her own coffee as Pam began mixing the batter together for said waffles. The woman just let off a dry, almost metallic sounding laugh as she stirred.

She turned, waving a sloppy whisk at the shorter woman. "Remember that asshole up the road? The little cult he runs? Those mother fuckers are probably all zombies by now. And they had more weapons than you could stick a shake at."

"…Okay. What brought this on?" Fingers drummed quickly on the wooden table. A smirk on her features. Pam was a shit mechanic, but boy could she cook. And having a breakfast made by her was always something positive. If you could wake her up at a decent hour.

Pam glared at the waffle iron. Waiting for Juuuuust the right moment. She pulled the first of the waffles as she spoke. "Well… I mean. If we take out the lesser infected now, those boomer things won't be as much of a threat. And… Well they hopefully won't migrate over here. Y'know?"

"Riiight. And what if there are specials out there? Like… A tank?" Pam paused. spatula clattering to the counter for a moment. She then turned on her heal with a bright grin.

"We'll burn that bridge when we get there!"

Roxy gave her a flat look. Slowly standing up and making her way to their supplies. Checking the laptop to see if they had internet still, or even saved articles. Hours were spent copying and pasting any information that even might be useful onto a thumb drive. For good measure, Pam had been printing those and placing them in a binder.

Sure enough, she figured out how to make a Molotov and walked past Pam with a harsh grumble. "Speaking of burning." She began. Pam spun on her heal in time to 'save' the half burnt waffle. She sighed, staring at it.

"Guess that one's mine."

In the end, Pam had convinced her. After turning the animals out for the day, the two clambered into the truck. Pam had a grimace on her face for a moment however. "Is it just me, or is one of those pigs looking a little funny lately?" She stared at one boar, shifting it's weight anxiously on it's front feet.

"I don't know. I don't care." Roxy sped them out of the drive. Making a point to hit the nearest small pothole and giving Pam a lap full of hot coffee from her thermos. The two lunged into playful banter as they slowed their way up to the small cult.

Pam half expected to see a black van, or motorcycle pull up and attempt to intimidate them off. But it was quiet. Dead. Driving deeper into mostly uncharted territory, they began to see evidence of the former inhabitants. Including a few infected. And a lot of bodies.

Something had ripped one of the houses to shreds, and cut a trail through the woods. Both women just sat in the cab of the truck staring at the wreckage. Eyes wide. Very little imagination was needed to figure out what had happened. They shared a glance.

Pams fingers drummed nervously on the window while Roxy tapped her hands on the steering wheel. One or the other would start to speak, then quiet down. Both women stared at the ruined house for quite some time. "Think it moved on?"

Pam jumped a little. Eyes wide. "Maybe. But do we want to risk it?"

"I-I don't know. " Roxy stammered. Both women went quiet. Pam ran a hand through her hair. She gave a long sigh and shook her head. Trying to focus on the wreckage. It looked as though the earth it's self was ripped apart in places. Several of the infected were crushed. Same for the non infected.

The heavy silence returned. It was an ever constant companion to the two women. Shadowing every conversation they'd carried. Dragging them back to unpleasant thoughts every so often. Roxy heaved a sigh, startling Pam from her thoughts.

"Did you hear what happened…Before the bombing incident?" Roxy kicked her heal up to the dash, staring at the bodies around them. Both infected and otherwise. Pam paused. Waiting for her friend to speak up.

Roxy took a shuddering breath. "They…They started shooting people. Not infected people. Just… Just everyone. The people in charge of this epidemic… God…What if that's us?" She covered her face a bit. Groaning.

When she'd heard there was a literal zombie plague, she just couldn't believe it. Roxy had been keeping up with it with baited breath for a while. Until things went silent. "Yeah. I heard."

Pam tried to stay out of the news, but that was before the first infection. When the evacuations started, one brave survivor made a point to document it. They managed to report on the CEDA shootings. Before they too, went silent. Pam wasn't sure how they leaked the information. Or what happened to them after. She tried not to think about it.

"It isn't us, and it won't be us. We've made it this far." The taller woman smiled. Trying to drag her friend back up on her figurative feet.

"Right…Still. About that tank."

Pam groaned, leaning her head on the window. It looked as though what infected hadn't been smashed to bits were starting to notice the new object on their turf. "We staying or going?"

"…Going. No reason to risk it." The shorter woman pulled them away from the decimation. Just in time for Pam to notice something big moving in the woods. She held her breath. Waiting for Roxy to just floor it. They ended up leaving a bit slower than Pam was happy with. But the looming threat didn't follow.

Pam mentioned it to Roxy partway down the road once they were well out of the way. She got an earful for not saying something sooner. As they entered the farm, Pam found something a little unnerving.

One of the pigs in the field was limping. The rest of the pen seamed flighty. Spooked. Pam was the first to leap from the truck. Jogging over. Most of the squealers fled upon seeing her.

She paused. This was… unusual. Most of the pigs were potbellies. Pets. They would normally rush over for petting and food. Anything that looked human. They were sweet little swine, for the most part. But now, they huddled away from her. Eyeing her warily.

Pam inspected the enclosure closer. There was blood. Lots of it. Many of the hogs were just fine. If not flighty. All but the one. A sow she'd come to call 'snuffles'. It was the pig they'd managed to pull from the first pet store. She was a gentile, soft pig. Always the first to say hello.

Even now, she hobbled over. Nose high with interest. Pam spread her hand out. muttering softly and trying to steady the herd. The injury didn't look too bad. Now that Pam could see it. However, it was unnerving. It absolutely was made by human, or human-like teeth.

The woman shot up. Heading for the truck, where Roxy was unloading and cursing the wasted gas. When the red head caught sight of Pams Grimacing face, she turned. "Pam? What's up?"

"Fucking Zombie is here. Looks like a jumper. One of the pigs is bit." She snatched her rifle from the vehicle, being sure to check her ammo. Roxy followed suit. Searching around the pen, they found a scuff on the ground. Something had lept from that end. Pam entered the pen while Roxy guarded the door.

Inside the pen, Pam finally spotted where the creature had dropped the pig. It left large impacts where it's knees hit the ground hard, little trenches in the earth indicated where the feet landed. "Too big to be a jockey…Fucking Hunter did it." She stood, making her way out the door. She'd have to tend the damage later.

"Good thing animals aren't affected. Eh?" Roxy put on her bravest smile. Though she glanced at the injured pig with a wince. The wound looked ugly. Snuffles didn't look to be too happy either. They'd have to raid a vet soon. Get some pain killer and a decent amount of antibiotic. Good thing Pam had training.

The taller woman shook her head laughing. "Yeah. Hopefully it stays that way. Just imagine what happened if those things started getting specials." The mental image of a tank bear flickered through Roxy's mind. It wasn't a pretty idea.

"Just imagine. Witch mouse. Think of it!" Pam burst into full blown guffaws. Roxy couldn't help but join in. There are two kinds of people in the world. Roxy and Pam filled both ends of the spectrum.

The small moment served to ease some of the tension from both women. It made things easier to focus. As they tracked where the hunter had decided to leave. There was blood on the ground. It started as large splatters, and ended in a trickle. It led to the barn. They searched within. But ultimately, decided the hunter used the elevated platform to spring outside the walls. How it got in was a more concerning question.

They did a perimeter check. Watching for signs of it jumping. Listening for it. Still, they could only find a few scuffs from where it sprung for the trees. Pam heaved a long sigh. No matter how high she made that damn wall. The hunter would still be able to leap in.

She thought she heard a growl. Both of them going back to back, guns high. Ready for an attack. They caught the sound of leaves being shaken. Retreating. Sure enough, they found little droplets of blood where the sound had come from. They decided it wasn't worth hunting down.

Pam pulled the wounded pig into one of the spare sheds. They'd been building it into an indoor nursery for piglets and chicks. One side held the maturing chickens. Many of them pacing back and forth eagerly awaiting food. Even though their feeders were already changed for the day.

She set the heavy hog down into the bedding. Heaving a long sigh. Pigs were incredibly resilient. She remembered that much from when her grandmother had the place. And the bite didn't look too deep. It just needed some TLC and she'd be able to play with the other pigs again.

Roxy had been wise to scavenge up some medical equipment when the infection started. Including some animal medicine when they'd been in the pet store. She made sure Pam had everything she needed. Then sat and waited outside the pen. Despite her phobia.

Pam worked quickly, even though she was more suited to treating people, rather than animals. She tied off the stitching. Shaking her head once snuffles was done squealing at her. "I know girl. That wasn't any fun. Was it? I'm sorry." She just kept speaking like that until the sow calmed down.

She was turned loose with the others soon after. However, Pam grew worried. Staring outside their walls. She was right. And she hated it when that happened. She glanced at Roxy, who carried a similar look.

Checking the position of the sun, Pam could see things turning to late afternoon. Quite late. A lot could happen in a day. Apparently. "So… Lunch? Or, early dinner I guess." Pam offered.

Roxy gave her a dim look. Then laughed. "You're cooking."


	6. A harsh turn of events

Snuffles wasn't getting better. She'd grown more aggressive as time went on. Even going so far as to snap at another pig. She, and the other bite victim were quarantined away from one another.

But it was too little too late. The pigs had been growing worse over time. Until eventually, they started attacking anything that moved. Including taking snaps at one another. Occasionally they'd catch the animals committing. Despite all regular causes being ruled out.

They'd yet to raid the veterinary office, however. Even though they decided it would be best to do so. Given the fact that, they were just two women. One mistake could cost both of their lives. Town raids had to be planned. Carefully thought out. Then acted upon swiftly.

The situation with the pigs however, grew ever worse. Finally. The girls sat down to talk about it. Both that, and the hunter that had been jumping into the property when it thought they were absent.

It never attacked them. And was far more interested in the livestock than the humans. So far, it took one chicken successfully. Pam took a sip of her coffee. Staring down at the eggs on her plate.

"I... I don't want to say it. But the pigs are... It's either rabies. Or the flu." She tapped her thumbs together on the mug. Both women sat there in silence.

"So. In other words, we can't even use what's left of them. Not for anything." Pam concluded. Glancing at Roxy. Who was absently prodding her toast into the scrambled mess on her plate. She could catch a grimace.

Finally, Roxy stood. She took up a gun and checked the bullets. "Shot in the head is the most humane. Right?" She glanced back to Pam. Who sighed. Standing up slowly.

"They have thick skulls. We'll have to...To shoot from the ear. God." She scrubbed a hand over her face. "How are we even going to-...Ugh."

"We're going to corral them, one by one. And do it quick. The shooting will...Will definitely get attention." Roxy stared into the metal of her gun. Eyes distant. "So many rounds... That could mean our life." She grimaced.

Pam hummed. Then nodded. "So... We do something else. We can stick 'em." She didn't like the idea. If done wrong, it was, slow, and painful. But it was better than wasting bullets on a controlled situation.

"Two questions. Have you done it before? And is there a drawback?" The shorter woman glanced at her.

Pam winced. "Yeah, I've done it. As for draw backs? Noise. If we fuck it up. They'll scream for hours." She shifted her weight uneasily. "Though, we could try stunning them. It would just take a smack to the head."

"With a big ass hammer. Right?" Roxy's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Yeah...I think some of the crews at the railroad left a big one behind." Pam smirked. The town they called home had a train track going right through it. Much to their annoyance at first. Now it turned out to be a blessing.

They didn't have to scavenge long. The two found a pretty heavy hammer for this. Building a small barricade out of old crates and sheet metal found around their scraps. It turned out most of these materials were useless for their needs. Up until now.

Pam couldn't help it. She was humming a grimly appropriate song as she worked. At least it had a bouncy, happy melody. And Pam's voice wasn't so bad. Roxy, however, was dreading this. She'd had a phobia of pigs since she was little.

She had all rights to be scared of them. Her father had a massive scar from where a boar had bit him. Pam didn't share that fear. But she understood Roxy's reasoning. As they shoved the slaughter box towards the pig pen, Pam checked her charts. Holding it awkwardly against the crate construction. She'd have to get this right if she wanted to make this quiet.

The pigs paced the pen eagerly. Not for food, or for cuddles. No. They wanted at the girls. Frothing at the mouths. Roxy stared into their dead little looked extra bulgy and sore. It really did resemble the infected hanging around.

Particularly when they paced into the darker parts of the pen. Gaining a shining glint in the dull light. All together wrong. She glanced at Pam. Chuckling a bit. She was still humming. "As if this weren't ugly enough."

"Huh?"

"You sound like a fucking serial killer. Humming 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' like you're not about to bash their brains in." She glanced at the Hammer in Pams hands. "So... Where am I stabbing?"

"Just where the collar bone meets the-" She'd lost her. Roxy was shaking. Badly. In order to do this right. She'd have to roll the Pig. Which meant touching something she was very afraid of. Pam just couldn't put her friend through that.

She sighed. Holding the hammer out to her companion. "Just. Right between the eyes. As hard as you can. Pretend it's a Dodge." Roxy paused, staring at the hammer. She could lift it easily. It was more a matter of looking them in the eye. Still It was better than touching the animal.

"Hopefully they don't." She smirked.

The 'killing box' had a guillotine door, as a secondary measure to keep them from charging in all at once. On the other end, there was an open slot and second door. Held together by a sturdy iron bar. The idea was that the hogs would come in through one door. Stick their head through, and get an easy smack to the skull.

They'd only have to do one animal at a time. Thankfully, the infected hogs from hell didn't outright squeal upon seeing them. Though they did charge and ram the fence. Pam clambered up the flimsy barrier unsteadily. Opening the the first of the two doors and zip tying it to the hog wire. Then dropping down as one of the pigs took a snap at her boot.

She gripped the rope and pulled the wooden panel separating the first 'lucky' contestant from the rest. It charged forward, catching sight of Roxy from behind the narrow space built in. If things worked out right, it would be far too focused on attacking the woman to realize what was happening.

Just as planned, it stuck it's head through the wall grunting and huffing in anger. Roxy flinched back, then glanced at Pam. The two locked eyes a moment. Roxy took a deep, shuddering breath. Reeling her arm back and swinging with everything she had.

It slumped to the side, still wriggling slightly. A low gurgling noise rasped from the animal while it lay there. Pam grabbed hold of it's forelock and hauled it over enough so she could quickly plunge the knife in. Roxy was a little shocked how quiet it was.

Honestly it was a relief. Any major noises they made had drawn twice the amount of infected to them than would normally meander by. The girls wondered about the infected sometimes. They were either completely unfazed by the local wildlife, or simply couldn't capture them.

Once the first hog was processed, Pam gripped it's legs and opened the gap for her to pull the animal through. They'd made damn sure to wear gloves today. The hogs would be left somewhere far from them when all was said and done.

The next two went just as smoothly. Roxy even somewhat overcame her fear as they continued. Pams arms were starting to grow sore. But they were almost done. Two more to go. Out of the five hogs. They managed three quickly, and quietly.

It was the fourth one, the one that caused all this mess. 'Snuffles' trundled in. Slamming herself into the slot. Her nose was pointed down. Pam was dropping the guillotine door. Roxy grunted with a displeased look. She couldn't get a good shot on it's head. not with the bar holding the pig back.

She reached over head. Grabbing the sow by the ear. Snuffles' head shot up, slamming the retaining bar out of it's place. The pig charged forward and grasped Roxy's leg, knocking her off balance.

The woman cried out. Pam tackled the animal, driving her knife sloppily into its neck. It screamed. The sow shrieked louder than either woman could. Drawing the attention of infected several miles away. Before Pam finally managed to cut it's airway. The small pig began choking and rasping.

"Well that sucked." Pam stood. Wiping the blade on the animal and glancing at Roxy. Her hands were shaking. She clasped her ankle, tears steaming down her eyes. Pam paused. "Roxy?"

She was forced to watch in horror as her friend pulled her hands away. Revealing a large amount of blood soaking through her jeans. She glanced at Pam with wide, red eyes. "Pam?" Her voice was so quiet. So small. Pam dropped the knife. It stuck in the ground, handle up.

She rushed Roxy in where they could have some light. Sure enough, the hog bit her. The infected pig... Had bitten Roxy. Pams fist slammed into the wall. "FUCK! Fuck. No..."

They sat there in silence for a moment. "Pam. Get a gun."

"No." Her voice was low. Broken.

"Pam. I'm going to fucking turn. There's no changing this!" Roxy moved to stand. She soon slumped back down in her chair. "It could happen any minute. And... We don't have what we need."

"We don't-" Pam stopped herself. They DID know that she was going to turn. "I can't do it Roxy. Not while you're still...You." She ran a hand through her hair.

They both sat for a minute longer. Pam occasionally taking a worried glance at Roxy. She still stayed herself. But she was staring at her ankle grimly. "What are my odds if we amputate?"

"Slim." Pam dropped onto the table. Roxy mirrored this. One of the rescued kittens plodded by ignoring the women and stealing a small bit of kibble from the dogs dish. Then slinking back to hide under the sofa with it's 'sibling'.

They stayed like that for another minute before Roxy shot up. Startling Pam in to a frenzied search for her knife. Falling in her efforts to escape the 'infected' Mad woman. "I just remembered something!"

Pam lay there awkwardly on the floor. "Uh. Yeah?" She shuffled back to her feet. Ignoring Scraps peeking around the corner. She blinked as Roxy pulled one of the files from their stash.

"The- Some people are immune. I mean. It's more likely in men but... There might be a chance." She looked to Pam with pleading eyes. Pam, on the other hand met that with a smile. "So... What are my odds Doc?"

The taller woman untangled herself at last and gripped the papers with glee. "The longest it seams to incubate is ten minutes. So... We might be in the clear. Might."

"Okay so... What do we do?" Roxy sat down, resting her ankle.

Pam gave thought into everything she'd heard about the green flu. As well as turning to several of her medical text books. Nursing school was really paying off. But... "Uh. You're not going to like it."

"What?" Roxy's face grew horrified. Now what was she going to go through!?

"I...May have to quarantine you for a while. I mean... We didn't rule out the possibility that this is...Rabies." Pam winced.

Roxy stared at her like she'd gone stupid. "Pam... where and why would you do this?"

"And that's the part you're not going to like. If you show flu like symptoms in the next few days... Then it'll happen. And... As for where. Remember the unused shed? The one we patched the pig up in?" She slumped further down just waiting for the inevitable.

Roxy glowered from her seat. "And what. Pray tell. Are you going to do while I'm locked up?"

"Keep the farm running. Of course."


	7. Sodium and water

Ten days. That was all Pam needed. That's all the time she would wait to confirm or deny Roxy's infection. She'd set up the shed to be a comfortable hospice. But the two kept giving one another worried glances.

"Pam. You can't do this alone." Roxy winced as she was helped onto a chair. The room was set up with dozens of books, a heater, an old mattress made up as a bed. Everything Pam could think of. She too, cringed.

"I don't have a choice. What if you turn on me? What if... NO. We're not thinking about that." She shook her thoughts away and sighed. "I'm not going to leave the property. I'll just work on the upkeep until you're back on your feet. That's all."

After ensuring for the tenth time over that Roxy was comfortable, Pam left. Crossing the field and passing the already slaughtered hogs. There was one left. One that shrieked at her. She'd been wise enough to bring a gun with her. In case that hunter was looking to pick just one person off.

Pam rested the barrel against the hogs head, and fired. It dropped. The sounds resounding through the woods and echoing off the mountains. This was a loss. A big one. Whether it was poor planning or poor execution, they suffered for this. She kicked the bars of the cage with a snarl all her own.

Pam entered the house, eyeing the cats. The dog. And then her clothing. She'd have to clean the blood from the field, before the other animals got sick. Problems for another day.

Pam stripped her blood soaked clothing from her person and dumped them into the washing machine. Showering what was left off. Ten days. That was all she needed. Then Pam wouldn't be alone.

That night, she chose to sleep on the couch. Closer to where Roxy was. It was unbearable. Being alone like that. A fuzzy, drooling mouth lay on her stomach. Causing her to yelp. Laying his head on her, was Scraps. The dogs tail perked up. Wiggling happily.

Both cats were snuggling in a bed not too far away. One mewled softly at her while the other slept purring. At least there, she had some form of company. She could only imagine what Roxy was going through.

Ten days. That was all they needed. The first day was long. Pam had made a point to bury the pigs under a series of metal and rock. Turning the soil they were bled on and covering the blood. Making sure the dog couldn't get to it.

She shared her meals with Roxy and checked her ankle. The two women chatted about small things. The conditions of the animals. Their own conditions. Plans for the future. Those sorts of things.

"You okay?" The question hung in the air. Pam took a bite of her bread and shook her head.

"Gotta be. You?" She eyed Roxy, the woman was worrying at her ankle and staring out the door. She eventually stood. Working her legs helped her calm down. As she paced the small pen.

There was no nice way to put it. Roxy was locked in a cage, waiting to see if she was turning into a zombie. She leaned on the wire fence and groaned miserably. "Well. I'm not craving brains. No fear of water. Asside from extreme boredom and pent up energy, I'm good." She grinned.

She wasn't 'good' but she was alive. That's what mattered. Pam nodded and returned to her stew. Another night spent in the house. Alone. With the pets, but still mostly alone.

Pam woke and did a perimeter walk. Scraps at her side. There was a strange influx of infected lately. She even spotted a few specials among their ranks. However, they had no interest in the farm. It looked as though they were trying to avoid something. That made Pam uneasy. More so when she spotted her younger brother among their numbers.

She was never close to the boy. Her grandmother being the one good family member she had. She let him run. So long as they weren't bothering her, they'd be a waste of bullets. It did concern her to see them moving with apparent purpose however.

She fed the animals, shared a meal with Roxy, and returned to the chores. Weeding the garden with a grumble. This job was grueling at best. Worse without someone watching her back. She'd have brought the dog, but he tended to take weeding as a sign it was time to dig. Which meant the whole garden got dug up.

A low growl caught her attention. Pam shot upward, gun at the ready. When she saw nothing, she slowly made her way into a building. Being sure to keep her back to cover. She got jumped once. It wouldn't happen a second time. Pam managed to make it inside the chicken shed. Shutting the door quietly and clearing the room.

A few hens pecked at her shoe while she took shuddering breaths. Steadying herself. Pam eyed out the windows and spotted their mystery hunter. He was moving around with purpose. Snuffling his way until he found where she'd buried the hogs.

He clawed at the metal guarded corpses for a moment before spitting in anger and turning away. He eyed a cow for a moment. But it seamed these Zombies still had some form of brains. The moment one squared up with him, he fled. Yelping. Pam sighed, leaning against the wall and clutching her rifle. She waited just a moment more, and left the shed.

The next day she made sure Scraps was at her side. Doing another walk. Pam began making a chart of the local infected she'd spotted. The ones that seamed to return. Marking down who they were. Some she had names to. Some she wanted to forget the names of.

More infected seamed to be fleeing. A new hunter seamed to hang back. But avoided the fence. Pam made sure to take note of the designs on his hoodie. Making sure she'd know him at a glance.

Afterwords she managed to finish weeding the garden and make breakfast for both she and Roxy. Bringing it too her and checking her ankle again. They were lucky. So far there were no signs of infection or rabies. Roxy's ankle was healing well.

She fed the animals and sighed. One of the heifers seamed to be getting all the grass. It was quite fat. Either that or bloated. Pregnant? Maybe. Pam didn't care. She had no clue how to check.

There was a little damage around the chicken shed. Pam made a point to place some of the wire over the top of their outdoor enclosure. Being absolutely sure they wouldn't have the same mistake they had with the hogs.

Another long night. Pam sat in the shed with Roxy. A sigh escaping her. "See? Three days. And I haven't fucked it yet." She grinned. "Knock on wood."

"I'm worried though." Roxy stated. Staring into her mug of tea. She took a sip and glanced at Pam. Already re-bandaging her ankle. "You said there were hoards moving?"

"Yeah. I'm concerned about that too. But. What ever it is, so long as we lay low. We should be fine." Pam tried to smile it off.

Roxy however, gave her a stone cold glare. "Pam. Don't be an idiot. What scares the shit out of a zombie? What, pray tell, would drive even other specials off?" Both women let that hang in the air. Pam inhaled slowly.

"So long as we don't make too much noise, and we keep the animals contained. It shouldn't come looking." They'd discussed this before. That damn tank. Pam 'lovingly' called it Tomas. Giving it a silly name eased the tension somewhat.

Roxy leaned back. Taking a deep breath. "...I...I can't. I can't just sit back and wait for you to do this Pam." She stood. Eyeing the taller woman. "How long does rabies take to develop?"

"...Any where from three to eight weeks. Though, symptoms can show up within ten days. Kind of looks like a flu at first." Pam admitted.

"And green flu?"

"Shit Roxy, it's a new disease. How the hell should I know? I mean. I've heard of people turning within five minutes." Pam ran a hand through her hair glaring right back. Both women locked each other in a tense staring match.

Finally, Roxy took a deep breath, and leaned in closer. Until she and Pam were almost nose to nose. "Pam. This is the god damn apocalypse. Now, I don't want to turn. I don't want to hurt you if I turn. So if you think it's a risk. By all means, I will stay here until it's clear. But..."

Pam bit her lip. Leaning away from Roxy with a small noise. "I...We'll give it one more night. We know the flu develops fast so...If you're fine tomorrow... Oh god. Please be fine tomorrow."

"I will." Pam left the shed. Moving slowly. Something snuffled above her head. Pam jumped to arms and held the gun where she'd heard the monstrosity sound off. He didn't bother hiding himself. Just sitting atop a roof. Watching her.

Pam took note of his clothing. But never made any move to shoot. Not until it started to move towards her. Pam shot. Only to miss. The hunter scrambled aside. It turned on it's heal, and fled. "Smart fucker." She confirmed all was fine with Roxy, and returned to the house.

The next day, Pam opened the shed. Roxy was still sleeping. Something about that hunter. It defied all logic. They were mindless beasts. Rabid individuals. But the sounds outside... They concerned her. Infected were milling around outside the wall.

Eventually Roxy woke. Staring at the small plate of breakfast in Pams hands with a smirk. But the look on the womans face. "Shit. Am I infected?"

"No. Listen." Pam left Roxy's breakfast on her lap and opened the door. Infected screamed and yowled at the walls. "That shot I fired off... It must have dragged them here."

"No. You shot that pig a while ago. And they ignored that." Roxy stepped out. Standing at Pams side as they watched their walls. They'd made absolutely sure there was no way to climb up. Not unless they could jump. Hunters were a big risk.

"Yeah but... there were less in the area then." Pam shrugged. Something made it's way over the wall. Causing both women to tense. Roxy pulled the gun from Pams shoulders. Pam reached for a large knife on her hip.

The infected seamed confused, slowing her assault once she found nothing. She dropped to her knees. And wept. The infected pounding at the walls paused. And moved on.

The girls glanced at one another. "Well. That could have been worse." Pam grinned. They slowly made their way across the field. The witch wasn't really bothering anything. So long as they could keep her out of important areas, she'd be more of a benefit than a hindrance. Especially if her presence chased away other infected.

"It's strange. The only infected I've ever heard of driving away commons was-"

Something shouted. Roared, and thundered towards the walls. Both women glanced at one another. Their worst fears were confirmed. Tank "Run to the house. And get more gun."

Both women charged for their fire arms. Something smacked the wall. HARD. The livestock and pets ducked for cover while both women managed to snag a rifle and bladed weapons.

The walls began to give way with the second hit. And by the third, they were DOWN. Both women opened fire, screaming like crazed banshees as the hulking brute made it's way right to them.


	8. Tank!

Those infected with a little extra balls spilled past the tank. They regretted it. Dearly. Many of them ended up painting the remnants of the wall a lovely shade of zombie. The wiser ones held back until their foreman passed. Then slunk in behind him.

He made a B-line for the two howling banshees that consisted of Pam, and Roxy. They freely fired on the brute just desperately hoping he'd be brought down. However, they weren't foolish enough to stand in one place.

Both women took off in separate directions. Whether this was intentional or not was a mystery. Pam bolted straight for a low roof while Roxy stormed the RV. The tank slammed into the large vehicle before getting a grip on the tire. Flipping the hulking automobile from the front.

A stinging shot to it's shoulder diverged the monstrosity as it charged the low wood she Pam had managed to clamber onto. Sadly, it didn't do much. The infected gripped one of the walls, and shoved it aside. The shed, no longer stable, tumbled from below Pam.

She had enough time to leap from her position and roll down the tanks back. Only to be swarmed by the commons. She ducked her head down as something moved in her peripheral. A massive hand batted away the aggressive commons, while also closing the distance between Pam and the brute.

She yelped as she was gripped by the middle and slammed hard onto the ground. It felt like her entire left side caught fire. Pain blooming from her chest. Something rose above her, Pam attempted to scramble out of the way. Settling on a desperate roll as something heavy pounded the dirt beside her.

Something cracked through the air as Roxy advanced. The brute grabbed a desperate Pam by the stomach. It whipped the woman towards her friend. They slammed into one another as Roxy dropped her gun in order to avoid hitting Pam.

They struggled to untangle themselves in the confusion. As the tank advanced. In comparison to the hulking mass, common infected were inconsequential. As even they scrambled to get the hell out of the way.

Both women managed to separate and charge once again in opposite directions. Roxy retrieving her gun in that time. Pam reached for hers, but... "FUCK!"

Her shouting drew the tank her way. Pam rushed towards the woodshed, struggling to pull her knife from her hip. The commons started to lunge at her, hindering Pams path into a near crawl as she began stabbing and hacking her way through the hoard.

Sadly the Tank was still closing in. And Roxy was trying to hold off her own cluster while reloading her weapon. Pam managed to slip past another wild swipe aimed at her face. Something long and thin just missed her, Wrapping a common and dragging the screaming, angry thing away.

It gave her just the opening she needed to bolt for freedom. Sadly, she heard something screech behind her. Pam retrieved her weapon, and turned to face it. She didn't get to see much.

As opposed to going directly to HER, the Tank went back to the wall. And was pulling a chunk free. It hurled the iron, wood and barbed wire towards her, It spun in the air, then caught her by the right leg. All Pam saw was a large, grey and red blur. The world snapped out of existence for a moment.

Things were looking grim. Roxy fired towards where she saw the tongue lash out. A satisfying plume of smoke rose from her mark. She knew enough to know that meant it was dead. Dead and gone.

She glanced to where she could see the thank making it's way to her. But where was? She froze in horror. There, laying in a crumpled heap on the ground, was the white tuft she'd come to identify as Pam. She wasn't moving. The part of the wall the Tank had thrown had skid passed her and slammed into the low wood shed. But there was blood surrounding her.

Dread rose in Roxy's chest. Would she have to survive on her own from now on? What would she do with Pams body? Would she even make it long enough to do anything? What if Pam survived, but turned?

There were too many questions. And they were so loud in her mind that Roxy hardly registered that she was both yelling, and shooting. She only really registered what was happening when she heard a familiar, comforting voice groan.

Pam lay on the ground. She was sure three ribs were cracked. Her right leg was numb. Gone? She turned her head to glance at it, bleary. No. Her leg was still there. But boy, would it need work if she ever wanted to use it again.

She could hear the massive brute roar as it trundled through their defenses. She wasn't even sure how it happened. Where it came from. How did she get in this mess again? What was that thing?

Right. It was a tank. Green flu hit. And it was just her and her best friend against hoards of zombies. She groaned. Moving to stand before the commons could pick off what was left of her. Burning pain seared up her leg and into her hip. She whimpered. But drew her rifle to her side.

She could hear her friend firing bullets like a mad woman. Screaming for her to get up. To please not die. Pam drew her weapon to her shoulder. "HEY! UGLY!"

It turned to her. Fuming. Charging her down. It was in this moment, she started to reflect on their decisions. On what got them into this damn mess. As she aimed for the only weak spot she could see. And fired.

A crimson stain bloomed in between the eyes. The body jerked violently as momentum dragged the body forward. The Tank fell. Crushing four commons under it's weight. Pam took deep, ragged breaths. The hoard was starting to thin out. But with that hole in the wall.

Roxy charged off in a random direction. Leaving Pam to fend for herself while the remaining infected swarmed her. She dropped her gun, in favor of her knife. Going back to cutting her way through them until, blaring "Oops I did it again" the RV charged through. Knocking half of the hoard down to paste.

The hulking vehicle blocked the massive breach. At least hindering more from getting in. The Rv was shut off. Roxy began mopping up the ones that weren't victims of a hit and run.

The two woman stared at one another, gasping for air when it was all over. Music still playing on in the background. It was a wonder the other infected hadn't come their way. Roxy peeked out the window. As it turned out, they'd long since retreated. Or were smashed to a pulp by their brutish front runner.

Pams eyes scanned the battle ground for the witch from earlier. Spotting a wickedly clawed hand sticking out from under the woodshed. A set of bare feet hanging out from the rest of the rubble. Pam gave it a quizzical look as Roxy approached.

"So one thing. 'Hey ugly' Really?" Roxy gave her a flat look. Pam shrugged with a smirk.

"Cut me a break. I'm bleeding out." She motioned over her still aching leg. Roxy went wide eyed. Staring at the blood soaked ground. Soon enough, Pam was lifted over her friends shoulder, squawking indignantly.

The next hour or two consisted of patching one another up. Pam grumbled as she attempted to treat her own damn leg, thank you. She wasn't given an option as Roxy wrapped it carefully, medical book open and laying on the table while she attempted to treat the woman.

Pam sat at the table shortly after. Roxy had been scratched, bitten, and kicked so many times in that scuffle she was more bruise than human. Pam matched perfectly. Looking at her normally pale arms, she was all sorts of shades of red, black, and blue. A few bite marks covered her as this point, if they were going to turn, they were going to turn. May as well accept it now.

They still had work to do. She glanced around the room, and spotted something. It was an old crutch. It must have been left by one of her grandparents, before they passed. Slowly, Pam rose. She steadied herself on the table, grabbing her chair and scooting it ahead of her like a walker. Much to her friends panic. "Wait a sec! No, what are you doing?"

"We gotta' fix that wall. And get rid of those bodies before more show up." Pam gripped the sturdy crutch, and began to make her way to the door. That wall wasn't going to fix it's self. Roxy made no argument and followed her outside. It hat to be done as soon as possible.

The two began slowly working. Surprisingly the wall was easy to fix. As they wrapped chains around the chunk the Tank threw, hooking it up to the old truck. It took some work. But soon the wall was at least serviceable. They continued cleaning up the farm. Until the sun had crept low in the sky painting the mountains and treetops a brilliant red.

As Pam pulled the corpses of the infected to a large pile of scrap. She spotted Roxy on the porch, making a notch on the door frame. "What's that for?" She never left her friends sight, and vice-versa. Finally she added wood to the pile, Lighting the corpses.

Neither had eaten since the smell of burning flesh made that more apparent. It didn't so much arouse hunger as it generally reminded them that it was empty. Causing a sick feeling. Roxy finally answered. "One mark for every hoard we survive. Eventually we'll have quite the collection. Eh?"

"If we don't turn first." Pam snickered. God. She could only imagine how much longer it would take. She felt okay so far. Asside from the dull pains from being tossed around by a tank.

Roxy went silent. Then burst into laughter. "I'm sorry. But I can't get over the mental image of you as a fucking smoker or something. Just standing there with that long tongue hanging on the ground like some kind of..." She trailed off into giggles.

Pam couldn't help but join in. "And what about you? Seriously I could only imagine you as one of those monstrous brutes." She pointed to the Tank corpse. They weren't too sure what to do with it.

"Hey!" Roxy protested. Glaring the taller woman down.

Why did Roxy have to remind her of cigarettes. God she could go for a smoke. She pocketed her shaking hands and shrugged, grinning. "What. I've seen you working on your vehicles. There's no difference."

The redheaded woman closed her pocket knife and hurled it at Pam. The little oval of designed plastic bounced off her head and hit the ground. Pam regarded it with feigned interest and prodded it with her good foot. She heaved a sigh.

"I'm going to see if I can't get that tank to burn." She limped off. Stumbling across the body of one infected that hadn't been as lucky as she had been, Pam paused. She must've missed it. Gripping the arm, she dragged it back. Piling it on top of the tank. Her crutch slipped, and she fell hard on her side.

Pam grunted as she pushed herself back to her feet. She wiped her torn jeans of the gooey substance the infected leaked. Taking notice of it. Her stomach roiled in disgust. It had been digesting something before a highly propelled chunk of barbed wire and metal had hit it.

Pam turned to her work before pausing. "Wait..." Pam shoved the body where she could see it properly. Taking note of it. Male. Tattoo on his left wrist. She grimaced. Trying not to look at the infected's stomach too much. She took note of it's condition. No signs of dehydration, or starvation. With how long the infection was happening...

"Fuck I hope I'm wrong." She dragged the corpse back on top of the tank, and lit the bodies with a fair amount of wood and fire starter. She could hear Roxy calling out, turning to look at her with hazy, tired eyes, she saw the shorter woman waving around something. It let off steam, so Pam was pretty sure it was either a beverage or food.

All she could smell was zombie guts though. And the thought of food didn't settle well. She cleared her throat and raised her voice. "I'll be over soon! I want to watch the fires and make sure we don't burn ourselves down!"

She winced, gripping her cracked ribs. She was dully aware that breathing hurt. But that was livable. Yelling on the other hand, was right out. It HURT. She couldn't bare it. Pam winced. Taking a few moments to breath semi-normally. God she wished they had some kind of pain killer. She stood with her thoughts for a while, focusing on the glowing fire before her.

The state of that infected worried her. Badly. They expected most of them to starve out in maybe a month or two. Given the reports. They didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't drink. But between the state of that one. And the Hunter actively searching for food.

Her eyes drifted to the grim flame before her. Watching as the contents smoldered and boiled away. She then took a glance at her own wounds. The reports also said victims could turn quickly. Or slowly. It didn't really matter. She wondered if they would even know who they were if they did turn.

It was late into the night when the fires finally worked their last on the corpses. Sadly it had depleted their firewood greatly. The girls finally ate something. Sitting together quietly. They could hear their hunter snuffling around. Even caught sight of some movement. But he made a point to leave them be.

They heard some rustling, angry squawks then a disturbing choking sound. Pam sighed. "Sounds like he got a crow."

"Thought those things didn't eat." Roxy sighed. Setting her bowl beside her.

"Nope. Looks like they're eating something." Pam relayed her discovery to Roxy. For a while, they were quiet. Finally Pam broke the silence. "I want to take one alive."

"What!?" Roxy turned to her fully. Eyes wide and confused. She stared at Pam as if she'd just grown an extra arm. Or maybe she was starting to turn green. She took a peek at her own skin just to check.

Once she confirmed that she was not, in fact, turning, she laughed. "Look. I need to know for sure. If these things are actually eating, drinking, and sleeping, we may be in this for a long time. I just want to nab a common. Nothing too big."

"O-Okay. Okay...There's something I want too." Roxy leaned back on her arms. Watching the stars twinkle in the sky.

Pam made an inquisitive noise. Turning her head to stare at the dying ashes of their fires. Roxy hummed affirmative before continuing. "We need armor. If we don't turn... We can't take another hit like that." She gestured to Pams leg.

"Right." Pam nodded. "I think there's a sports shop in town."

"We're also raiding a vet... Maybe a clinic."

"Could be risky. Folks probably flooded those places before they left."

"Doesn't matter. We need the supplies. Besides. I have an idea. Now come on. We got a herd to move."


	9. An odd day

The next day Pam found herself wrapping her leg tightly and tending both their injuries while they made breakfast. The fences were badly damaged in that attack. They didn't even notice how much chaos had gone on around them while they fought with the tank. Some of the herd had panicked, breaking the fence.

The overly fat cow escaped. As well as two of her friends. It wasn't a huge loss. Even a herd of three could support the women long term. They still had the bull. That was the most important thing.

They made doubly sure to bury and fluids left over from their fight, tossing their old clothing into a bag. They'd burn it soon enough. Slowly, the women left their farm. Pam sat in the back of the RV, confused.

They slid into town slowly. Both women checking out the windows for signs of trouble. At one point they passed a charger, or, what used to be a charger. The larger arm was ripped from it's person. Pam almost wanted to examine it, answer certain questions as to how it'd been killed. They had no time, however.

The first stop was an old vets office. It wasn't the greatest. Most people skipped to the other town for good veterinary service. These people were mostly dogs, cats, and the occasional goat. The door was broken open, the alarm long since dead.

Pam limped into the building. Supporting her weight heavily on her crutch. She hobbled into the back, finding that most of the medicine was ransacked. At least, the easily accessible stuff. Roxy followed after her, a crowbar in hand. She began banging at the pad lock. Causing Pam to roll her eyes.

She began searching the front desk. Finding the keys she'd need. Soon enough she had them in hand. She calmly unlocked the cage containing the many narcotics, and antibiotics. Roxy gave her a flat look. They weren't great. But it wasn't like they could knock over a hospital.

Pam checked over her shoulder as Roxy wandered off. Looking for something. They hadn't seen any infected. So there was no real worry about being separated. Something clattered in the next room. Jarring Pam from her thoughts. She drew her knife, glancing back. "Rox!" She hissed.

When she got no reply, Pam began to worry. She dashed in the direction her friend disappeared to. It looked as though she was caught up in something important. The washrooms... Why did they even bother planning anything if Roxy was just going to wander off like that. It left them both open to attack. The taller woman limped towards the source of the noise.

She peeked into the room, spotting what looked to be a small cat. The woman let off a sigh, glancing over her shoulder. It was just a cat. She could go check on it. Sheathing the knife. There was no need for it.

Pam pushed the door open, and hobbling into what she assumed was either surgery or recovery. Oddly enough the cages had been ripped open by something. The cat Pam had spotted jolted, then bolted out a large hole in the back wall. Leaving Pam to question what the hell made that hole in the first place.

Something shuffled to her left. Pam jolted and backed away. There was something big covered in a large sheet. She initially thought it was just some equipment. Until she heard it breathing. Pam glanced at the hole in the wall, then the sheet. Only one thing could do THAT. She backed away, slowly.

Sadly, she kicked whatever the cat had knocked over to start with. Glancing down she found it to be a steal tray for surgical equipment. Not like it mattered now, as the mass under the sheet stood. There was no mistaking it at this point.

Maybe if Pam just kept moving slowly, it wouldn't see her. The sheet fell away, and Pam was face to face with it. "No. Fucking. Way. No way my luck is this shitty." She hissed under her breath. Banging on the wall urgently. Hoping Roxy would hear it and do something.

Pam couldn't run this time. Or fight. And as the tank eyed her down, she felt hope creep away slowly. A tranquil acceptance of her situation inched in. As the hulking brute slowly circled her.

She crept towards the door, praying she had time to flee, but understanding she didn't. It reached forward slowly. She flinched, reaching for her knife and dropping her crutch.

Bad idea. her leg gave out. Landing her on her aching ribs. She wheezed, before covering her face with her forearms. Eyes squeezed shut as she awaited a crushing blow.

It took some time. Finally Pam opened her arms and left herself a window to peek out from. The tank was sitting on it's rump, turning her crutch this way and that. It stood and held the object the way she'd been using it. The wood creaked under it's form, causing the tank to adjust his weight back to his knuckles.

He looked at Pam next. Causing her to scrambled further towards the door. She was dragged back towards it screaming. Despite the pain in her ribs. The tank held her upside down by her ankle. Pams pant leg fell back a bit, exposing the bandaging around it. Seeped through with old blood.

She was carelessly dropped. The tank turning away, disinterested. It squeezed through the hole it apparently had made earlier and trundled off in it's own direction. Leaving Pam to lay awkwardly doubled over herself, highly confused, but alive.

Roxy burst through the door in time to see it's back, and Canadian flag print underwear. "Pam?" She squeaked.

"Oh. So NOW you show up." She'd never been so angry and scared as she did in that moment. Pam struggled to her feet and turned to face Roxy. "What were you thinking!? I can't fucking defend myself. Not like..."

Roxy just stood there. Neither said a word. They eyed where the tank had wandered off towards. "Why didn't it kill you?" Roxy's voice sounded cold. Hollow.

"I don't know." Pam hobbled towards the truck. There wasn't much point in yelling. Particularly because it hurt do do so. But also because getting into a fight with the one person you relied on for survival was never a wise plan. It was best to let it lie and continue their scavenging.

They made their way to a looted store. Breaking into the cage behind the pharmacy with effort. Thankfully the infected were steering clear of this area. Of course that also meant there was something meaner around. But, given that most of the veterinary supplies they'd stolen was unfamiliar to Pam, or strong enough to knock a horse on it's ass, they hadn't much choice.

They mainly took antibiotics and pain meds. Something Pam was very hesitant to use. It was best not to stay in town too long however. As infected milled about in their corners. Pam clambered into the truck as it stuttered to a start. Roxy grimaced. Smacking the dash as they made their way slowly to the main road through town. Not many beached cars so far. One or two left on the sides.

Pam sighed. Of course there wouldn't be many. Folks would avoid the border like the plague... Actually because of a plague. She chuckled bitterly. "Hey Pam." She was shaken from her thoughts as Roxy slowed the vehicle. Her voice was shaking.

They both crept carefully passed the very same tank from the vets office. He was sitting again. Pulling something with one hand. In the other was a flurry of motion. Both women watched carefully, as they circled the hulking brute. In his hands, protesting vehemently was a smoker.

The hand not restraining the lanky infected was pulling the tongue. Leaving a small pile on the ground. Before the maximum limit was finally reached. With a scream of rage, or possibly pain, the tongue snapped from it's host. Leaving the infected disarmed. The tank examined this. Dropping the lost appendage and using its free hand to grip the smokers jaw.

It was about then Pam noticed they were sorely lacking in motion. "Rox..."

The other woman was transfixed by the tanks actions. It shoved an over sized finger into the Smokers mouth. Earning it's self a harsh bite. The tank roared in anger and slammed the other infected to the ground. "ROXY!"

They sped off. Leaving both the tank and the smoker behind. A quick check of the rear view mirror made it clear the smaller infected was scrambling to his feet while the Tank stared numbly at their vehicle. It turned back to it's catch soon after. Much to the smokers dismay.

The two sat in the cab of the truck for a long time. Cruising softly down the road. "So... That just happened." Roxy's knuckles were white on the wheel. Her eyes owlish and transfixed on the yellow between the stretching concrete.

"Yeah." Pam fell silent. Staring out at the slowly passing trees. They weren't far from home now. Thankfully. They were smack dab between two towns. One a bit smaller than the other.

Their own home was officially classified as a ghost town. Given that most of the residents were old, and the properties were mostly abandoned as it was. To be honest, aside from the occasional zombie, there wasn't much change. As they pulled into the small villa, Pam caught sight of something.

"Rox?" She sat up. Patting her friend shoulder. Just cresting over some heavily growing brush, was the back of a heifer. She seamed to be caught. Or struggling with something. But it was for sure one of the small number they'd lost.

"I'll go get the trailer. You wait here!" Roxy scrambled to slow the vehicle. Pam jumped out with her gun slung over her shoulder. Sort of skipping her way over while the truck sped towards the farm. Most of the infected were either dead, or common. No real threats aside from that one hunter.

Crazed laughter rung through the air and Pam sighed. Okay that one hunter and a Jockey. Still. Nothing she couldn't handle. The hunter stayed away from them mostly. And The screaming half pints were by no means threats. A screech ripped over the tranquil surroundings.

Fine. It was a bad luck day. Pam would just get this mother fucking cow and go home. She didn't have to confront a damn thing. Lucky for her, this one was always one of the nice cows. Always first for attention.

The hunter and the jockey came bursting out of the bushes. Apparently rammed by something as there was a resounding yelp from the taller. The cow stuck her head out and pawed at the ground. Swinging her head. Just challenging the three to approach her.

The Jockey lept at her only to receive a small horn to the stomach. Throwing the small thing into the hunter. Who'd been wise enough to back the fuck off. Pam recognized this hunter. He was the transient that had made his way into town. She could only tell by the marking on his hoodie, but they were enough.

The jockey flailed and clawed. Soon enough it broke into a fight between the infected. Pam moved to get the hell out of the way while the smaller one scrambled atop the hunters shoulders. In turn the hooded menace pushed himself off from the ground, Flailing backwards and slamming the smaller as hard as he could into the dirt.

They seamed to ignore Pam, too caught up in their squabbling. Something the limping woman capitalized on. Making her way to the heifer. "Okay girl nice and-" She had to throw her crutch, dropping out of the way of the angry bovine.

It backed up and lined her up for another charge. The heifer was suddenly slammed in the shoulder by a writhing hunter. As it threw the jockey from it's shoulders and head. Letting of a pained scream, it clutched it's face. Being caught completely by surprise when the cow slung her head into him. He fled, crashing into objects at random. The jockey, seeing it too was outmatched, fled.

Leaving only Pam and a berserk bovine. The heifer charged her with intent to trample. Pam hastily sloughed her gun from her shoulders and braced it on the ground. Firing a sloppy shot that hit the heifer in the throat. She dropped. Choking.

Pam rose slowly to her feet. Just as Roxy returned. "FUCK! What happened this time."

"I don't fucking know. She was such a sweet thing but..." Pam sighed. Grabbing her crutch. "Had to shoot her. Damn thing was going-"

A tiny noise had both women jerking to the right. Staring behind the bushes. Something was making an effort to move. Pam limped closer. As Roxy shoved the gun forward. Behind the brush, laying in a pool of afterbirth, was a small calf.

It's head wobbly and it's body shaking. "Oh... Oh god." Pam stood dumbfounded. "I didn't. I couldn't...The last animal to act like that-"

Rox placed her hand on her friends shoulder. Patting her gently. "I don't blame you. It's an easy mistake to make. Let's just... Let's just keep going...I-I think we can take care of it. Maybe."

Roxy managed to lift the newborn calf into the trailer. Pam sitting back with it and rubbing it down with hay. Trying to clean the little one off. Hopefully another of their herd was giving milk.

They pulled onto the farm slowly. Pam sighed. Struggling with the calf to get it on it's feet and into the fields. Their temporary repairs to the fences were holding so far. She had no idea how to introduce a calf to a herd. Let alone feed it.

Roxy had mentioned getting milk from one of the cows. And swiftly dragged out a bucket. Leaving to round up the heifer and drag her in. Meanwhile Pam sat with the shivering calf. She remembered hearing something about a calf picking up a mother's scent through milk.

So when the bucket was brought to her, Pam figured the calf would just drink it and smell like the 'mom' soon enough. She staggered to her feet, placing the bucket in front of the calf. Roxy gave her a concerned look. "Here, maybe I can handle this while you put the medicine away."

"Sure. Just... Hold it's ear so it doesn't drown." Pam hobbled towards the house. Hearing a soft chuckle, then high pitched coaxing from Roxy. This was fine... Everything was fine.

And then Roxy started shrieking her name. Using her crutch as a sort of pole-vault, Pam lunged for the barn. Finding Roxy desperately trying to pull the calf's head out of the bucket. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING ABOUT THE DROWNING THING!"

Pam wedged herself under the calf's chin and used her crutch to out muscle the surprisingly strong newborn. "WHY would I joke about that?!" Pam almost considered leaving Roxy with this situation alone. It would be perfect revenge after crossing that weird ass tank.

But no, Eventually they managed to create a make shift bottle with old waterline tubing, a funnel, and the bucket. Both women heaved heavy sighs. "We gotta get this bastard on a cow. Is it even worth it?"

"I don't know. But... It kina' feel wrong not ta' try. Right?" They shared a glance at one another. "Besides. From what you say, the other cow will adopt it soon enough. Right?"

"Maybe. I don't fucking know. My grandmother raised chickens. Not Cows. I just know this shit from hearsay." Pam leaned on her hand. Her ribs ached. Her leg ached, She was stressed and strained. And the best she could do for herself was an antibiotic, and bandages.

She blinked at Roxy. Taking in the abundance of scratches and bite wounds on her arms and shoulders. Shaking her head, the woman stood. "Come on. Let's... Let's go eat something. Get our wounds cleaned again and... Move from there."

"Don't you mean Moo-ve on from there?" Roxy grinned like a mad woman. Getting a flat glare from Pam. It was only polite to respond to such humor with such a response after all.

"You're pun-bearable."


	10. Organized chaos

It was about supper time. A day later. Both women were sitting together, waiting on a pot of stew to finish. Pam had given in, and took a mild pain killer. Leaving her sleepy and mellow. Staring at the lid on their dinner as it rattled gently, creating a satisfying low clatter.

"You know." Roxy began. Sipping a cup of hot tea. Pam turned so her chin was resting on her arms. Eyebrows raising. A sign to continue. But she wouldn't really speak up.

"We should raid a police station. They have body armor. So..."

Pam nodded in agreement. Laying her chin in her arm. She grumbled. "Sounds good. Can't do it yet though." Her breathing was ragged and rough. She couldn't wait for her ribs to heal. But it would take time. Six to eight weeks. Roxy was better off.

She was covered in bites and scratches. In comparison, Pam had been mangled. She gave a slow nod in response to Roxy's hesitant words. Pam never had a great opinion of law enforcement. However, that wasn't cause to turn her nose up at something so useful. Pam sighed. Then regretted it, clutching her chest.

She wanted to scream. Or at least curse. Anything to temporarily alleviate the sharp sting. Her fist connected with the table. Scraps' claws could be heard clicking against the hardwood floor in the next room. Roxy just stared.

"Pam... I don't want to push but... You haven't been doing so well." She stood, placing a small hand on Pams shoulders. Attempting to ease her back into her chair.

Pam complied with mild grumbling. Slowly setting herself against the shaped wood. It was funny. She could only just remember sitting on these chairs as a small girl. Waiting for her grandmother to pull cookies out of the oven.

Or the days as a young teen. Just emerging into the adult world, and taking refuge from the household horrors with the kindly woman. Sitting with a cup of tea in her hands, and listening to her grandfather's rough voice indulge her with stories of the war, and the old farm.

She missed those days. Dearly. Pam pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. "Gunna' lie down for a bit. Get me when the stew's ready." Staggering to the living room, Pam lifted one of the two cats slowly. Laying it on her lap as she moved to lay down. Closing her eyes.

Her sleep was far from peaceful. Or long for that matter. It was dreamless and interrupted by a loud series of garbled bellowing. She sprung to life, nearly jarring the older kitten from her stomach. Where it had apparently moved to sleep.

Roxy was already wrangling a gun from beside the door while Pam hobbled her way to the woman. Taking a weapon of her own and staggering out the door. Both women charged for the cowshed. Things were looking grim already. The adults were looking warily at the barn door. Sniffing it and fleeing.

Opening the door, there was plenty of broken glass from a back window. Both women feared the worst. Raising her weapon, Pam led the charge, setting the pace so as not to be left vulnerable. The choked mooing stopped. It was already evident to both women what had transpired. Pushing the door to the calfs stable open, their fears were confirmed.

"Shit..." It looked like a meat grinder had attacked the young bull. Parts of it's neck were sliced open with messy gashes. Small ribbons of skin splattered against the walls. It's eyes stared at the ceiling without actually seeing.

There were chunks missing from it's shoulder and side. Where their mysterious hunter had been feeding. Pam wretched. Causing a ring of pain to bloom from her ribs. "Well... Fuck." Roxy came in beside her. Eyeing the sight with disgust.

"Check the area. There's no way it left already. Watch your ass." Pam glared towards the rafters. Surprisingly, nothing was up there... Yet. As they made their way through the shed, searching behind haystacks and stables, finding nothing. Something creaked overhead.

Pam began growing suspicious. Slowly she glanced back towards the rafters, watching as the hooded infected slunk carefully by. Not taking notice of her. She nudged Roxy motioning for quiet while they watched the wary being pause. It stared towards the corpse of the calf.

A rumbling could be heard, but it was unclear if the source was the infected's stomach or throat. Pam finally sighed. Raising her firearm. "HEY!" In a flurry of tangling and untangling limbs, the hunter fell partway off the rafters. Digging it's claws in and scrambling to re-orient it's self. It glared back to them.

Giving one shriek, the infected fled out the window it'd initially smashed. Both women paused. "Pam, If you're looking for a test subject... There's your man."

"Won't argue it. But you try catching that mother fucker." Pams eyes turned to the calf. She wasn't much of a fan of veal. Not to mention an infected had been feeding off it. "Actually, I think we got bait right here... Come on, let's... let's deal with this."

It took a while to divide the animal up. Pam decided to move the kill away from the farm. In order to keep any carnivorous wildlife well away from the farm. They had enough trouble with infected. She refused to deal with bears on top of that.

They drove a large portion of the corpse a ways off. Dumping it on a path they never used much. Once returning home, they were greeted by the loud screeching of a smoke alarm, and Scraps howling.

Fortunately, there was no actual fire, and the infected more or less were wiped out by the tank battle. Asside from one or two transients that were already too far scattered to be concerned about.

Dinner that night was a charred mix that once resembled stew. Accusing glares were shot their ways via the dog and cats. Pam sighed. "We still need to name those damn cats." She heaved a sigh. Sipping her tea.

"Well... I did have a weird ass dream we could name them after." Roxy went into great detail about a sort of store much like Walmart. Called Tops and Tippy. The names fit the kittens perfectly.

Pam sighed, tucking into the charred remains of a once delicious looking meal. Nothing could be wasted at this point. Enough people had taken food and water on their ways out. It wouldn't be long until such things would be hard to find... Or worse. Impossible to find.

The dwindling remains of the day were spent sitting in the living room. Waiting for Roxy to arrived from the back room. When she did, Pams eyes widened. Something familiar sat in her hands. Her old base, and a cherry red electric guitar.

The woman passed the sturdy object to Pam, who instantly started tuning. They probably spent two or three minutes just remembering how to play. But once the girls returned to the swing of things, and a song was decided on, they softly strummed away on their instruments.

Sadly, without an amp it was just a mute twanging with no real sound. But what little joy you could find in an apocalypse was said to be precious.

The morning was greeted with wafting coffee and the soft sounds of birds. Pam stumbled from her bed. Staring out her window at the fenced off fields. Thankfully the wall kept out deer. A small portion of it got damaged during the tank battle, but that was negligible.

Stepping down the stairs slowly, Pam paused. Roxy seamed distant. Staring at one of her many bites and scratches. It was no secret they were a concern. But the incubation period was long over. That thought comforted Pam a little.

She made her way slowly down the stairs, pouring the morning coffees and sitting by the windows. "Pam... Let's do a mop up." Pam paused. Blinking in confusion towards Roxy as she handed the taller woman a plate of eggs and toast.

"Mop up?"

"Yeah. That fire alarm got me thinking... What if we can't avoid making noise? There aren't many infected left so... Even in our states, it'll be easy." She sat with Pam, already finished her meal. Pam took small bites at first, before wolfing it down.

"S'pose it makes sense. But we shouldn't waste the ammo." She sighed. It was actually a really good idea. No zombies? No worries.

"We'll figure something out."

The next day was spent planning their 'mop up'. Part of that included a cautious scouting around town. Slowly rolling through high traffic areas in the truck. Surprisingly, the majority of infected were scattered around the bait traps set in place for wild life.

Roxy hummed. She pointed towards a large, bloated thing shoving several infected away. It began stuffing it's self at one of the bait traps. Both women sighed. "Boomer." Roxy affirmed. Pam responded with a positive grunt.

"Isn't that Jerome?" She eyed the remains of a once cheery red beard hanging off the infecteds chin. Now stained with bile. Both women exchanged a glance. Jerome was a kind man, but had some... Rumors around him.

Not great ones. He was said to have a few guns and other supplies stashed away in case of just such an emergencies however. "Could check out his place." Pam rested her head on the seat. Staring at the feasting zombies.

"Back at the cult? Where we confirmed a tank. A tank we aren't even sure is still there." Roxy's fingers drummed on the steering wheel. Glancing at Pam with a grimace.

"Yeah. Bad idea." The taller woman sighed. Watching as Jerome bashed away two or three other infected. She hoped the other rumors weren't true. But watching him now, she suspected they were.

"We could take him... For what ever you were planning." Roxy blinked in her direction. The white crested woman leaned on the dashboard, contemplating. A boomer would be easy to subdue. But there were risks. That bile being the biggest. If a hoard were to drop on the two injured women, they'd be easy pickings. After the disaster at the veterinary clinic, Pam didn't want to face more hazards in her current condition.

"No. No that wouldn't be a great idea. I think we should stick with that cowardly hunter. Easy to catch. Hangs around any ways." She leaned back with a hum. "Besides. If that thing gets damaged, it'll blow. And well... We can't handle that right now."

They slowly crept to the next baited area. Minds turning like exposed worms, as a plan began to formulate around this discovery. Discussing back and forth. But the subject of Pam's planned research returned once more. "What are you planning anyways? We know they eat now. For sure. No question."

With a rattling huff, Pam leaned her feet on the dash. Shutting her eyes. "Honestly, my big questions have been answered. At this point... Well I more want to contain that thing so it'll stop killing our livestock."

"Live stock...Pam, you just gave me an idea." The vehicle swerved back towards the farm. But made a stop at an old house. Once belonging to someone every one affectionately called 'ranger dick'.

Roxy vanished a moment, once things were confirmed to be clear. Then returned with two large traps. Meant for mountain lions. She seamed to struggle under the weight of them. But refused to take any help Pam offered. "You're leg's too fucked up for that."

She tried to protest. But failed to find any decent argument. Pam sighed. Returning to the truck. Roxy set the large animal trap in a very well hidden spot just outside the farm. A place she often spotted large predators napping. back in the day.

As for the mop up, Roxy and Pam spent hours out of the ranch. Digging. Their wounds wrapped in plastic wraps so as not to infect them. Once there was a shallow pit the unwary would fall into, large shards of metal, glass, and sharpened wood were stuck on end. Covering it with a sturdy tarp.

Both the cougar trap and pit trap were baited. As a finishing touch, the women carried a radio. Loading an old tape and blasting it. They sat in wait, having clambered in the truck soon after. Several infected charged the noise.

A hand full died easy to the spike trap. The ones that didn't, crawled from their place flailing. These were polished off via backing the truck over them. That was until the Boomer showed up. He popped upon the spikes.

However, bile splattered as far as the truck, and other infected. And... Roxy. Who'd chosen to leave her window open just a crack. It wasn't long until half dead individuals began banging on the cabin of the truck. There weren't many. But enough to cause concern.

"DRIVE DRIVE!" Pam urged. As the windshield began to creak under the infected battering it's surface.

Roxy shot her a glare. "I CAN'T SEE SHIT!"

"JUST DO IT!" She begged.

The vehicle sped forward, and into the spike trap. The truck's airbags burst, knocking Pam unconscious. All was black.

Something rattled on her chest. Causing painful vibrations in her ribs. Pams eyes fluttered open. A pair of ice blue ones stared back at hers, and meowed loudly. "Hello."

"Oh thank god. I think my nose broke. And you were out cold, and the infected are mostly dead now. And" Roxy sat next to Pam with a cup of hot milk.

"Okay okay. Tell me slowly."


	11. Cat's in a cage

Pam still had many questions about how exactly Roxy had pulled her from that accident. But for now, she focused on hooking the back end of the truck to the RV. It was the biggest vehicle they had with towing capacity. Though, not the best for the job.

Sadly the truck was their fastest mode of transportation. It had taken some time to put the RV back together in the first place. About two days. Two days of just hard work. Fixing this mess might take longer. Depending on the damage.

She scrambled out of the way as the truck slowly scraped against the pit. A few of the wooden spears were jammed into the grill. One of the tires was popped. The windshield was just about gone. The window on Pams side was busted.

A surprising number of infected had been offed. Pam checked them over. Some faces she knew. Roxy's mother was among them. Pam turned that corpse in particular so the face wouldn't be seen. No need to put the poor thing through that twice.

Her own brother seamed to be impaled on one of the spikes. Very dead. He bled out ages ago. Pam sighed. Climbing out of the pit. There was boomer bile all over the place. But, with that special gone, things could be safer.

And heavens knew, those women needed to rest. Roxy's nose had been set as best it could. It would take a while to heal, but it was far from fatal. Sadly, the hunter and Jockey were not among the dead number. And their little chicken thief was far from absent. He hadn't found the trap yet.

Something had been clearing the trap for the past few nights. But nothing looked to trip it. Which either meant their hunter was smart enough to avoid the lever. At least they'd had time to set up a decent cage for it. Using the old pig shed and re-tooling it to hold a single infected.

Pam jogged behind the truck as it dragged on the ground behind the RV. Trying to catch up to the hulking vehicle. She hopped in the truck cabin instead. Managing to catch up to it. They pulled into the farm shortly after.

Pulling into the driveway slowly, Pam finally heard something she'd been waiting for. Angry shrieks and growls from the direction of their trap. The two women retrieved a rifle. Limping towards the trap.

Unfortunate, it wasn't the scene they were expecting. As opposed to a hunter locked in a trap and furiously demanding release, it was a completely different hunter rolling on the ground. Clutching his head. Crazed laughter caught Pams attention.

The jockey spilled to the ground, body mangled beyond reason from large claws. "Shit. It's these two." Roxy dispatched the small one quickly, before he could pounce. The hunter stopped it's wailing to stare at them. A crimson trickle caught Pams eyes.

"Oh buddy. You got messed up." She raised her rifle. The hunter staggered back. Standing upright unsteadily. It bolted instantly. Preferring to fight another day, as opposed to being killed or captured. Both women just stood. Shifting uncomfortably.

Pam took the time to examine the Jockey's body. This one was highly emaciated. Frail. It was laced with scars from the earlier fight. She took notes. Pam had taken to keeping a book on her person. Allowing her to keep track of her findings.

She'd compare her notes with Roxy not long after. The meat was still in the trap. However it was sent on it's side. Something long was trapped under it. She just caught a whiff of something in the air, but brushed it off. It sort of smelled like cigarettes but with a more muggy tone to it.

Pam prodded it with a stick. There was only one venomous species of snake in their region. But it was always best to air on the side of caution. Better safe than sorry. When no movement was found, and no angry hissing followed, they took the time to examine the object.

It was rope like and snapped off at the end. They trailed it's direction to the source. A lanky corpse lay before them. Chest ripped open. Judging by the large tumors on it's neck, this thing used to be a smoker. Pam sighed.

The smoker's passing was a shame. It would have been a better subject than some springy ass hunter. Roxy covered her mouth. Trying not to look at the corpse it's self. "God. That's just... That's fucked up."

"Yeah. Looks like he got hit by that hunter... He's not at all starving though." Pam checked the trap once more. Heaving a sigh. "And here's why. Looks like he's been emptying our traps for a while. And it was just a fight over food."

"Great. So they're food aggressive... I'll cover the trap again. Can you drag that thing away from here? Too many dead infected might scare off the big guy." The 'big guy' was what Roxy had come to call their frequent visitor.

Pam actually took the time to bury both the Jockey and the smoker. Sadly, even through the tumors, Pam recognized the lanky infected. He was actually a decent guy. Local store owner. Always had a smile on his face. She put him under the earth with a small, soft sigh.

Sure enough, the trap was set to rights while Pam disposed of the bodies. However, it had been moved a short ways away from it's old location. Probably to trip up the hunter and finally trap the bastard.

She eased her way through the field. The cattle were grazing lazily on a new field. The chickens excitedly sped after stray grasshoppers. Steam from a well prepared meal wafted out the window. Allowing Pam a decent whiff.

She entered the house to find Roxy staring at a list, and a small sketch on the table. Limping slowly to the stew pot, Pam served up two bowls. Setting them on the table shortly after. She eased herself to the table, pulling a fresh breadroll from the table and dipping it into the broth.

"Pam... We aren't going to be leaving the farm for a while." Roxy sighed, leaning on the papers. Her elbow almost dipped into the stew for just a moment before she noticed it. Pam heaved a sigh. Gripping her aching ribs.

"It's that bad?"

"No... But we are. You're all busted up, I'm all busted up. The truck's all busted up. I think it's best if we slow down a bit." Roxy's eyes met with Pams. The taller woman smiled, and returned to her meal.

"True that. Hey! Why don't we throw on an old movie or two tonight? Only a few infected around so... You know." Pam wavered a hand in the air. Of course, they had a tone of work to do. And the fact that Pam had to do it so badly injured made every day misery.

So any little comfort was greatly appreciated. Pam longed for the days when she would laze about and let herself heal. But those days were gone. What was left was a routine of survival that was starting to become soothing.

After the animals were locked in for the night. The two women sat together. Watching some Disney movie Pam could hardly stay awake for. The melodies sung were nostalgic, that was all that mattered. The zombies were mostly gone. They only had two hunters to worry about.

All was well. All was calm. All was... Screaming. Rage filled shrieks echoed through the mountains. Both women flinched. It was obviously one of the two hunters, clearly in the trap. But which one, and where was the other?

The two women sat. Silent between them. One of the cats darted under the sofa. The dog hiding behind a kitchen chair, and the other cat climbing high. Both women turned to one another. It wasn't safe to go out at night.

But they sure as hell weren't sleeping with that around. The echoing screams turned into desperate shrieks as time passed by. Then, silence. It was decided to check on the hunter in the morning. Too risky to do it now.

Periodically, their guest would start screaming and crying in distress through the evening. In the morning, it was assumed he'd be waiting for them. Angry and snarling. Instead, upon approaching the trap, their livestock killer was sleeping.

His hands were fairly blistered from shaking the wire cage all night. The other hunter no where to be seen. No other infected around. Both Pam and Roxy turned to one another smiling. They each found a stick to use as a pole.

Jamming each stick through the cage, they both looped a rope through it. The noise woke the hunter eventually. Bewildered and confused, the received a deep growl from their captive. It took a while, but they managed to hook the bull up to the makeshift sled.

Neither woman was strong enough to carry the already weighty cage, especially not with a full grown man in it. Pam eyed his hands as he adjusted to the movement. Lashing out at the two at any moment he could.

It took some effort to get him into the shed. Behind the gate and into the quarantined room. He gave no quarter when it came to resistance. Pam haphazardly threw a few chunks of meat in. The infected paused.

A dish of water was shoved through a small slit. Basically confirming he'd have what he needed to survive. However, the infected was far more focused on the women before it. "So~. What's the plan here?"

Roxy's eyes met Pams. The taller woman shrugged, then glanced back in to the hunter before her. "To be honest, I don't... Fuck Rox. I already said I didn't have much of a plan after confirming they eat. We could just pop him now. Hell we could have done it while he was in the trap."

"Well what makes this bastard so special anyways?" Roxy poked the infected in the chest with the barrel of her gun. Angering it. Pam took the time to note his behavior. Oddly upright in comparison to others of his class. Usually they'd crawl like some kind of cat.

Though he seamed to struggle. He stayed upright. Despite having the room to drop down if he wanted to. He hissed. Mock charged, and snarled with anger. Spitting and swatting at the cage. Towering over Roxy and coming eye to eye with Pam while upright.

This continued for a short time, while the two women discussed his fate. When he finally quieted, he balled up in the back corner. Still clearly agitated, but quiet. Pams eyes landed on him. Her brow arching. "I... I haven't seen much on the special infected. So maybe, It'd be worth while to take notes. While we have him."

Roxy hummed. Biting her knuckle. "Yeah... Guess so. Maybe take some notes." A Rising shriek caused both women to eye the hunter. He mock charged once more, then tucked as far as he could into the opposite corner.

"This... Just feels wrong. On all levels." Roxy sighed.

Dinner was...Interesting. The hunter outside finished his temper tantrum an hour ago. But he'd made a hell of a noise. The girls sat on the porch, weapons in hand. Picking at their meals with hurried nibbles and wary swallows.

Any noise that wasn't them, or the hunter, had a rifle pointed at it for a second. About a dozen grasshoppers ended up at gunpoint that night. None the less, the yowling man eventually halted his assault on their eardrums.

No infected were drawn in. Meaning any left were either out of earshot, or unable to get to them. Good news for once. However, he might have been a risk. They'd decide in the morning. Both women took that silent time and slept.

In the morning. Roxy returned inside from an excursion to the yard. A grimace on her face. "He didn't eat." Pam paused. Staring down at the red head.

"Well. We'll watch him. Maybe figure something out." There wasn't much else they could do.


	12. Cold cuts

Three days passed. Their hunter seamed to get worse day by day. He refused both food and water. Only opting to squish himself into a corner and growl. Pam took a sip of water, watching him ignore another meal.

She gave a bitter laugh. Turning to him. "Come on. You've been eating our livestock for the past few months. And now you're shy?" She used the toe of her boot to shove the dishes further. Her reply was a higher pitched growl. Guttural. Unnatural.

Pam tilted her head. They'd tried changing up his diet, leaving him alone to eat. Keeping him company. Even pretending to steal his food for competition. Pam heaved a sigh. Standing. Sadly, he still looked far too human.

Pam could still make out where the man had clearly broken his nose in the past. His lower lip was torn from what must've been a piercing. Though it was an old injury. Long since healed. Probably from before he even turned. She fiddled with her scarred ear. Humming.

The infected man paused. Staring at her earlobe as well. His growls grew deeper. Though his face turned into a sneer. One Pam returned. There was one last option for this guy. Before giving up. They'd just have to dart him. Feed him through a tube. It was that easy. Pam suspected it to be a bad tooth.

She could do that. Pam sighed. She glanced towards a chair left for her. Surprisingly. She hadn't needed it for a while. Her leg was healing well enough since they started treating it. Her ribs were starting to feel a heck of a lot better too. She could finally take a deep breath. Though it was still painful.

Normally it would take a long ass time to heal fully. She chalked her speedy recovery up to painkillers and placebo effect. Still. Who was she to complain if she wasn't screaming every step? A snarl gained her attention. As the infected stood upright. Glaring at her from under his hood. His foot firmly in his water bowl.

With a sigh. Pam opened her water bottle. Reaching over the infected's head. He bared his teeth, challenging her. And in turn, he was dowsed. At least she could cool him off. The weather was getting warm as fuck. Summer was fast approaching. The heat would probably kill him like this.

Much to her surprise, he threw his head back, lapping as much as he could up. Pams eyes widened. She reached for the food in his dish and attempted to hand him a chunk. This was denied, the infected man darting back to his corner. "Well... We got some water in ya. At least."

Pam had taken to going on walks, now that the infected were long dead. Though she was always within eyesight of the farm. Never straying beyond the wall. The perimeter was a challenge she could manage. But she had to keep her injured leg moving. The damaged muscle would never heal fully, but she could at least make it work.

She made her way to the main gate, and rested there. Staring out a set of modified windows. Too small for infected to squeeze through. But big enough to poke a rifle through. Really, surviving the apocalypse was equal parts farming, equal parts building a rudimentary castle.

They were also great to watch the world from on her walks. Pams eyes fixated on a small doe. Standing in a clearing, nibbling some of the over grown greenery. Something caught the deers attention. A low growling from the tall grass.

Sure enough, the scrappy hunter they'd seen before flung past her. Way past her. It slammed face first into the ground. Howling in pain. Pam paused. Turning to face it. The hunters shrieks already alerted Roxy. Pam could hear the screen door from the farm slam shut.

The womans eyes trailed after the creature as he took another wild leap. Landing behind the doe and a fair distance to the right. It turned, preformed another leap. And failed it's landing. Tumbling in the grass with a yelp.

Something was... Way off. Asside from this hunters aim. As the startled deer took advantage of it's apparent misjudgment. As opposed to fleeing, the animal reared up, front legs flying in furious blows. She must have had a fawn near by.

A stray hoof removed the hunters hood. This one was visibly young. Not exactly a child, but definitely in his late teens. Scars riddled the top half of his face. Long and raking. Much like that female infected she'd seen so long ago.

"Fuck. You remind me of my idiot brother... Before he turned into a prick." Pam sighed. Watching as the poor thing was beaten into a fetal position. The doe and fawn took it's immobility as a chance to flee. Leaving the younger hunter to nurse it's new bruises.

It stayed put. Eyeing the doe. Eventually he snorted, pulling his hood back over his eyes. Roxy sidled up next to Pam. She had a clear shot on it, should he pounce. Feeling sorry for the individual, and slightly intrigued by it's apparent disability, Pam turned. Asking Roxy to wait for a moment.

Jogging to the other hunter, who'd shoved his food dish far from himself. She took the uneaten meat, and returned to the wall. Throwing a scrap over the half hazard structure. The infected paused. Inhaled, then approached.

Both women peered out the window as the hunter scooped the scrap into his hand, and began gnawing at it. Finding the meat tender and chewy. It gave no argument. Snapping it back. His hand pressed against the wall, as he unsteadily stood. Sniffing through the small window.

Roxy shot Pam a look. If she weren't so obviously concerned about the infected, she'd probably curse the woman out for drawing this new hunter in. Pam gave an apologetic shrug. When no more food was to be found, the infected boy left. Hobbling off towards an old store in town.

It was about then, Pam finally caught that earful she'd so rightfully earned. "GREAT! Now it's going to come back looking for us. Are you insane or just stupid?"

"In hindsight? Both." Pam admitted. Heaving a sigh. "Look. He just... He looks so much like... Like the asshole." Pam spat.

Roxy paused. Looking back through the window. She groaned, shouldering her gun. "Yeah. Guess so. Before he got on the stuff."

"What does it say about a parent if both their kids end up crackheads?" Pam mused. Leaning on the wall. Roxy just gave a bitter chuckle. "Still. I was starting to wonder if it was something with the meat."

Still. Pam sighed. The day was spent with the usual chores, as well as trying to force their captive infected to eat. He still refused. Even managing to drag his claws over Roxy's arm in the process. The two women sat in the kitchen, cleaning the injury while dinner bubbled away.

"Think he'll eat people food?" Roxy huffed. Her arm held suspended for Pam to work. Fortunately, it wasn't deep. It would only take a little while to heal. The main thing was to keep it clean.

Pam hummed in agitation. Getting this bastard to eat was like pulling hen's teeth. At least they could give him water now. Still. It was worth a shot. That night, some of the evening stew was shoved in. The hunter paused, smelled it, then backed away. Hissing.

Too hot. Too hot. Couldn't eat. Too small. Too low. Not safe. His head buzzed. These monsters just stared down at him. Jabbering in unintelligible noises. Not dignified words like his. He barked, snarled and hissed. Demanding they leave him.

They grumbled and chattered to one another. Complex sounds that used to make sense. Used to. He grimaced. Not daring to face those horrific things. They did strange things. They made walls open and commanded prey things to their will.

It wasn't natural. Steam rolled off the container of contents. It smelled like food. But it was hotter than the grey ground during bright time. He took another sniff. How did these monstrosities even do this?

He slapped it away, covering himself in the scalding substance. He shrieked in alarm, tearing the fabric of his hoodie away so as not to be covered in the liquid. Growling his displeasure, he smacked the container further, out the slit they'd shoved it through in the first place.

Well. That was to be expected. Though, Pam caught something about his outburst. "Does... Does he not realize that shit's edible?"

"Maybe hunters just don't take to confinement well?" Roxy huffed. She watched as the creature within huddled in the corner. He reminded her of a frightened cougar. Pam caught on as well. Watching him slap the bars once more and return to his corner. Spurts of bravery masked true terror.

Roxy's eyes met Pams. "We're going to go build something. Aren't we?" Roxy deadpanned. Pam just smirked, shrugging. She wasn't great with mechanics, but she could put together a shed easily enough. Which came in handy over these last few days. Especially with Roxy's help. Nothing was built without both women pouring all their effort in.

That was how it had to be, all or nothing. They couldn't afford anything less. No shoddy work. No material wasted. The only reason the wall was so sloppy looking was due to the lack of time. It was make a wall, or deal with constant infected.

"Perhaps. But let's worry about that later. Tomorrow would be a better day for building." They spent the night in the house. Pam laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. They'd tried almost everything.

It was just too damn hot to think. She pulled at her night shirt with a displeased grumble. Feeling it stick to her skin. If she was hot, that Hunter must've been worse off. Well. It was worth one last college try.

Pam sat up. She descended the stairs and gathered a few frozen chunks of meat. Taking it down to hunters shed. Sure enough, he seamed to be panting in the heat. In absence of a clean bowl, Pam shoved the meat into the slit just on the floor. Clicking her tongue for the hunters attention.

She was back. That monstrosity was back. With... Cold. So cold. Like the frozen time.

The hunter sniffed the frozen cuts. Licked them, then, to Pams delight he began gnawing at them feeding himself. Even better, he seamed happy about it. Pams voice crackled through the air in a whooping cheer. Waking the house.


	13. Glimmers of hope

Pam awoke early the next morning. Something seamed a little, lighter. Certainly quieter. She made her way down the stairs. Finding Roxy asleep at the table. A sketch was drawn up for an enclosure for their subject.

Honestly, the could re-purpose the grow out shed for it. It would have been faster, and faster meant safer. So, she made her way out of the building. Taking a set of plans for perches and climbing platforms with her. Allowing Roxy to sleep with a cat on her lap, and shoulders.

Working her way to find suitable perches for said plan. On her way, she tossed in a few new chunks of frozen meat. The infected man paused. Glaring at her from his corner. He'd been huddled in a corner, shoulder turned to her. A position Pam knew well. She'd taken it many a time in rehab.

He was uncomfortable, afraid. It must've been the root of his eating trouble. Either that, or perhaps Anorexia but she very much doubted that was the trouble. He was stronger than most men who suffer from such a thing.

She tapped one of the frozen chunks to the bars. Watching him turn to the provided meal. He instantly took to it. Throwing aside the pieces that had thawed. Pam just snickered. Continuing on her path. Finding the downed tree from that doozey of a storm.

She made a point to use the discarded branches that could hold the mans weight. As well as the scrap wood from the tank attack. Glancing at the blueprints every so often. Something chattered not far from her. Causing the woman to flinch.

Roxy was right. The smaller hunter had made his way into the farm. He paced the chicken coop, sniffing and digging. Unfortunately for him, Pam knew how to predator proof. Trying to back away slowly, Pam fell flat on her back. Several of her building materials having caught her knee.

The infected teen turned to the sound. Pausing, sniffing, then leaping towards her with a shriek. Panic rose in Pams chest as he slammed down beside her. His aim was aweful, but she doubted he'd miss at this distance. Pams voice cracked and choked on it's self as she attempted to cry out for aid.

However, the howling and shrieking did not go unnoticed. As answering howls and barks sounded from the contained hunter. The younger seamed to take note of these noises, and fled. Darting for the wall...And slamming face first into it.

Pam stood there, dumbfounded as he scrabbled up the side and over. A resounding yelp indicating a not so soft landing. Roxy came storming from the house, gun raised. "WHERE IS IT?! Where's the-"

"It's gone... We need to hunter proof this place." Pam sighed. She listened as the other crashed through the underbrush. Why wasn't he taking the high road?

That question, and his poor aim plagued Pam's thoughts all day. As they worked on a new containment for their captive hunter, converting the grow out/quarantine shed once more. Having fed the animals and let the cattle out.

The prep work from earlier made the task easier. And soon, they began questioning how to move their new infected. "We should name him." Roxy's voice jarred Pam from her thoughts. She turned to face the smaller woman.

"I mean. He's going to stay with us a while right?" She shrugged. Spurring a bit of laughter from the taller. Pam ran a hand through her white crest. It was starting to fade to black again. She shook her head.

"I could try and snag his wallet. We'll need to knock him out anyhow." The two women stood back and took in their creation. If it were up to them, they'd house him in a big enclosure where he could run and jump. In stead, they had a series of man sized cat trees in a room, in a shed.

It was better then the tiny room he was in now, but if Pam wanted to learn anything about the hunter, she'd have to watch one in action. Both women shared a glance, then made their way to the house. Pam found a few tranquilizers from their vet raid. She'd intended to save these for emergencies, but she'd have been better off raiding a pharmacy.

She drew it into a needle and stared. Now it was a question of getting it into the hunter. She could probably get him close enough using a water bottle. So she filled one, and made her way out to the temporary holding cell. Roxy sat just outside, waiting to be called in for help.

She opened the water bottle, waiting for him to come over. Taking in the fabric of his pants, she wouldn't have a hard time sticking him. They weren't exactly made for the running and jumping hunters were built for.

She managed to pour a fair amount of water both into and over him. Once he leaned close enough to the bars that his left leg began to dent from the wire cage, Pam jabbed the needle in. Slamming the plunger down and removing it. The hunter yelped and found his way back to his corner.

"Sorry." She gave a soft smile in response. Now that she thought of it, it looked like this man had never known a cold day in his life. Most of his clothing was thin, and flimsy. They weren't even very protective. Unlike the Hunter that had attacked her, and ripped up her ear. She placed a hand over the ruined lobe.

They'd examined the other one briefly. He'd been far better equipped for Canadian winters. A solid thump drew her attention back to the hunter. With Roxy's help, they pulled the man towards his new holdings. Pam took this occasion to check his pockets quickly.

She found a wallet with his ID. The name had been blotted out with a black marker. Causing Pam confusion. She searched for drivers licenses or a credit card, gone. The only outstanding thing was that he carried American cash.

She also took the time to examine him a little better. Finding that he was slightly dehydrated, but otherwise in okay shape. A little thin, but he was a picky eater. They set him in the new enclosure and waited until he staggered to his feet.

The infected man seamed to try and remember how legs worked, resembling a squirrel that had eaten too many bad crab apples. He ended up giving up after a minute. Pam took this time to examine his ID again. Asside from the name, not much else was crossed out. He was almost in his thirties. Eye color used to be hazel.

The photo on his ID made it clear he used to have three lip rings. Must've learned the hard way that they were a bad idea. Much like Pam did. They left him to recover a while. Roxy returned to repairing the truck. While Pam kicked around the house for a while.

She'd managed to find a lazer pointer. Something Roxy must have snuck in after their pet store run. And what fun Pam had, propping her leg up, and watching the animals fall over each other to catch that evil red dot.

Watching them spring and stalk after the intangible prey item brought Pams thoughts back to Hunters in general. They moved and behaved much like animals. More so than the other infected. With the exception of the tanks.

A thought crossed her mind, as Scraps joined the 'hunt'. Most animals chased lazer pointers... She Bolted out the door with a wicked grin. Scraps hot on her heals, barking happily. It wasn't long before she was in the shed.

The infected man, now having shaken off the drugs, snarled towards her. Pam was far from bothered. As scraps took his time to first growl at the perceived threat. Their companion snarled back in kind. Backing himself into a corner.

It was now or never. Pam clicked the pointer on, allowing a small red dot to rest just by his hand. She wiggled the light a little. Instantly catching the attention of the hunter. Who, in turn, slapped his hand upon the offending dot.

She shot it to his left. The scary dog, and it's master forgotten, he whipped about to smack the strange intruder. The red light fled from him, and he shot after it. It retreated up onto a branch above his head. He hardly missed a beat and shot up for it.

The dot hit the ground he followed. It fled before he landed and he corrected to land so he could keep the chase going. The light zigzagged, and he followed doggedly behind. Yeowels and growls escaped him as he sped after his new prey.

Pam had to resist the laugh trying to escape her. The dog paced the fence beside the hunter as the chase continued. Roxy had entered the shed beside her, intrigued by the savage noises of their companion.

When all was said and done, the hunter stood gasping for air. He slapped his hand upon the offending object. Raising his hand and examining his palm, he found it there, glowing softly. A smile crept over his face. He lapped it up, and devoured it.

Pam had to give him that win. She even ended up praising him almost as she would a dog. In a bright happy tone. Roxy wasn't far behind. The hunter froze. Staring at them in confusion. Before grumbling and making his way back into his corner.

Only to glance back over his shoulder as the women chatted. Their conversation turning to why the hell Pam even started this silly game. "...Oh COME ON! You can't tell me you weren't wondering if they'd do it too."

That night Pam brought him his frozen supper. Finding a flaw instantly. There was no slot for food. Heaving a sigh, Pam opened the door, threw the contents of her bucket in. She slammed it shut. Receiving a startled snort.

The hunter fell from it's perch and loped over to the new pile of food. Less tense in her presence. As Pam took the opportunity to open a bottle of water. Now he seamed wary, not even approaching.

It was understandable. He got 'stung' last time. So why would he trust the offering again? Instead of pouring the water over him, Pam spilled a little into a mug. She pushed it cautiously through the door.

He gave a confused glance, then took the mug in hand. Seaming to fumble before just leaving it on the ground and lapping directly from the cup. There seamed to be some memory about the strange object. Though, not enough to work it.

Pam was pulled from her thoughts with a frantic honking outside the gate. The hunter flinched aside as she sped out of the shed. Locking it with a padlock and pocketing the key. They'd placed that as an extra measure of security. If he broke out of the cage in the shed, he couldn't get out the door.

The bright shine of headlights seamed so foreign to her now. The honking from within sounded so unfamiliar. Roxy vaulted out the door with shotgun in hand. "Hey! Hello? We're friendly! We saw your lights and... Well we need help."

The two women exchanged glances before cautiously approaching the gates. Four men stood around an old, beat up truck. They weren't local boys. Judging by the Alabama licence plate. Two of them seamed like absolute twigs. No threat. One was larger than life. The final man was leaning on his companion.

He seamed sickly. Coughing violently, turning away. "He got the flu?" Pams voice was rough, rougher than she'd meant to portray it. The man holding his friend aloft shook his head.

"He's FINE." He insisted. The other two didn't look so sure. Though one made a point to zero in on both Pam and Roxy's forms.

"Shit. You're ladies! I haven't seen a pair of tits since this shit hit." The sick one managed to cuff him over the head. Earning a wince.

The women stared at one another. Pam heaving a sigh. "Anyone else hurting?" Roxy glanced over their numbers. Taking a critical eye to each of them. The facts were, it was the Apocalypse. They couldn't afford to just trust anyone.

Something Pam was far more practiced at, was judging a trustworthy person at a glance. And looking over these boys, she figured the smaller two were more of a concern. As they were eyeing both the girls. The larger one was far more concerned with his friend.

When they got a negative response, Roxy gave Pam a glance that called her to action. "Alright. The sicky and the big guy can come in. You two? There's a camper on the next property over. Sleep there. We'll set you up with some food while you wait."

"W- Are you crazy? There's infected all over the place!"

"No. Not all over. We took care of the majority early on. You might see A special or two. Nothin' two boys like you can't handle." Roxy affirmed. The decision was finalized with that. The girls weren't opening that gate until the other two were moving on.


	14. Answered

The two men were taken in after quite a bit of argument. The largest didn't seam to speak much. More concerned with keeping his small friend conscious. Pam hardly had the equipment she needed to work. However, she sat the man down.

The larger man blinked, staring at the ID on the table. He chuckled softly, pulling his own from his pocket. Roxy hardly missed a beat. "We got that off one of the infected. Hey, Why's your name blacked out like that?"

The smaller, sickly man spoke first. "After CEDA started shooting people, folks started blotting out their ID. That way-" He broke into a coughing fit. Pams hand soothed over his back as she tried to judge the origin of his wheezing. Pneumonia? Maybe.

The larger man waited then spoke for his smaller friend. "That way they don't know if we're important or not. They're shooting non essentials." The other finished. Both women glanced at one another.

"Do the essentials blot theirs out too?" Pam tilted her head. The whistle of a kettle drew Roxy over. She turned the stove off and poured four mugs of hot water. Adding honey and lemon to the mix.

Lemons. That was something The girls needed to learn to grow. Pam heaved a sigh. Returning to her work on the sick man. "Fuck no. It worked for like. A day." The smaller spat. Another wheezing cough caught Pams attention. Only then did she notice something. Small bumps dotting the mans neck.

She ran a thumb over them, grimacing. "Do you feel that?" He shook his head, turning to her. Pams eyes dropped to the floor. "Did you have any lumps on your neck before?"

Both men grew taught. The taller shot to his feet. "He ain't turning alright?!" Both women shared a glance. The smaller man clapped his hand over the new growths. Twisting in his seat. Pam passed him the hot drink and sat down. Folding her hands.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." She shrugged. The lager man slammed his hand on the table. Roxy lurched for him. Pam just flinched away.

"The fuck you can't! You're a doctor ain't ya?"

Pam shook her head. "No. I was a nursing student. The flu hit before I could even get too far. Yeah, I can set a bone, but I can't work miracles. We don't even have equipment." She waved her hand helplessly in the air. Desperately trying to explain the situation.

The larger man held her eyes pinned in his gaze. Pam stood, meeting him in the middle. "I can't help you. For that, I'm sorry. Trust me. If I could fix this, I would. In a heartbeat." Her heart dropped as she said this.

When Pam entered nursing school, she knew there would be days like this. However, that was under normal circumstances. In the literal apocalypse? The loss of even one human life was a crushing blow. Even when it was a stranger.

Both men stared between each other. The larger heaved a sigh. Dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap. The coughing man just dropped his head. "How long have I got doc?"

Roxy shifted nervously. As Pam took a shaking breath. Calculations running through her head. "I-I don't know. Any news we've had on an incubation period has been spotty at best. But seeing as you're showing signs of a later stage, I don't think... I'm sorry."

Everyone sat together with a grumble. It was a hopeless situation. Truly. However the largest man seamed to calm slightly. "We'll head back to our group tomorrow. Is... Is there any chance you'll come with us?" He gave them a pleading glance. "We could... Really use a doctor."

Roxy flinched away. Pams shoulders dropped. They both shook their heads. It was far too risky. The fact that they were both women put the pair in a precarious position. Two of the last women on earth. In an illness where mostly men survived.

It was a risky position neither of them could change. The way the other men had looked at them upon arrival said enough. Roxy was used to looks like that, Pam was wary of such. "Come on man. We both know your buddies would try to sell us out as bargaining chips first chance they got." Roxy shrugged.

The smaller man gave a short laugh ending in another violent hacking fit. The uninfected trio stood silent. Staring at the man, as his body slumped forward. The two women exchanged glances. "So... We can set you up... in the basement." Roxy shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm going with him." The larger man stood abruptly. Scooping the man into his arms. Much to his protest. Pam jerked back a bit. Eyes wide. Only now did she notice, neither man looked at them sexually. How they looked at one another in that moment, was something between sorrow and affection.

Something she'd only known in fleeting glances. Pams shoulders dropped. "Yeah. Okay. I'll set the basement up. And if you two are there in the morning...We'll work something out for you."

Roxy shook her head with a sigh. "We'll loan you a spare car and food. Take your nutcases with you." She gave a nod to Pam, who strode off briskly. She made sure the door was reinforced. Ramming her shoulder into it a few times. And sorely regretting it.

A grim thought fluttered past her mind. If either of the morons traveling with 'big and small' picked a fight with them, Pam couldn't fight back. Her injuries were starting to wear her down. Even if she was recovering, she still had pain. She was only human after all.

A howling shriek caught everyone's collective attention. Closely followed by two men screaming. The other members of 'big and small's' party. Fortunately no gunshots, but a persistent banging on the door.

As Pam climbed the stairs from the basement, she found herself ducking. The larger man slammed his hand into the wood of the door frame while the smaller tried to pull him back. "Jacob? What's-"

"That was a hunter." The larger growled. Moving to push Pam away. Pam, however, was completely unfazed, ducking under his arm. She was far more concerned with Roxy's whereabouts.

As it turned out, she'd been outside. As one of the men from earlier shoved her inside roughly. Eyeing the women. "These crazy bitches got themselves an infected!" Pam went stiff.

The larger man just shrugged. "Is it... Contained?"

"Yes? It's all boarded up in some kinda' cage."

"Then it's fine." He sentenced. Moving to pull Roxy away from the man. He easily hefted the small woman onto her feet, and dusted her off. Both women stared at each other with confused expressions. Waiting for more to be said.

The pair took one look at the sickly man behind him. Trying to discern his condition. The other was clinging to Jacob. Slumping slightly against him. Jacob heaved a sigh. Looking at the pair. "These two aren't coming with you. And... We aren't either."

"It's... The flu." The smaller man wheezed. He was getting worse. Pam could see it in the way he stood. Slumping slightly in the direction of some steadily growing tumors. The other two men stood, shoulders slumping.

"So...You're just going to turn on these two?" the first man gestured to the girls. "Jake, you can't seriously want to hang around after... We can stay. And help. Any way you ladies think we can."

"We don't need help. Thank you." Pam spat. Roxy cuffed her lightly.

"No. We aren't going to turn... He isn't going to turn... We talked about this."

(an: I'm not 100% Satisfied with this one. But it's the best it's going to get. We'll get back to normal after the next chapter.)


	15. Gut punch

Morning came, the two strangers had managed to convince their companion to at least come with them. As they packed for their departure Jacob heaved a sigh, staring back into the house. Towards outraged, raspy cries for vengeance. His sickly friend had turned during the night.

"So... Your plan?" Roxy turned to him with uncertainty. Jacob slid his weapons towards the pair, before gathering up a thick blanket, and rope. He checked his pistol, giving a short nod. There wasn't much that needed to be said.

"I can't leave Adam like that." He spoke plainly. Pam nodded, moving to pick up a piece of plywood and remove it from the new car's path. Giving him one more look. She set the wood on the porch. Moving to take the blanket from the man. He pulled away shaking his head.

One of the other men stepped forward. "Jake. You shouldn't-"

"Shouldn't have to do it alone?" Jacob cut him off.

"I was going to say; You shouldn't go charging into a large room with a loose zombie. Adam was a great guy. Don't get me wrong. Something tells me he's not so much any more." The other mans eyes locked on Jacob. Despite being dwarfed by him.

The third of their party tapped the roof of the car. "Hey. You know. These girls are trying to figure this shit out. Why not leave Adam with them? You don't have to...You know. And they don't have to put themselves at risk."

"Beg your pardon?" Roxy shot the third member a quick glare. Only just held back as Pam managed to grip her shoulder. With a huff, the smaller woman leaned away from the men. "Are you insinuating we can't handle ourselves?"

Pam winced. "Rox, it's the fucking apocalypse. Try to be civil with one of the few humans left alive?"

The young man held his hands up defensively. "I mean nothin' by it. But you know... Infected aren't exactly a picnic. You two kind of look like you've had some rough times with 'em too."

"Look. Matter at hand. We'll go in with you. And... Well you know. Deal with Adam together. You girls can hold him, right?" The one who'd stepped forward first glanced to them, pleading.

Roxy clicked her tongue, staring at the clouds a second. "We could... But we'd have to set something up. I don't want to crowd them into the same space. Infected tend to fight with one another. Like. We saw a tank get a hold of a smoker and he-"

"We're not leaving him. Not like that. No offense ladies, but we don't know if he's in pain or not. I... I just don't want-" Jacob stormed towards the house once more. The party of four swiftly on his heels.

Roxy was the first to speak up. Attempting to sound helpful. "Hey, I get it. If it helps, we haven't seen any signs of physical pain. They do show reactions to damage, but they aren't writhing in agony."

Pam followed her up, placing a hand on the smaller womans shoulder. "But we respect your decision. I didn't know Adam long, but It was clear he wouldn't want to stay like... That." The two shot worried glances at each other. Trying to decipher if they were actually helping the situation or making it worse.

As the small troupe entered the back room Adam lay in. Jacob took a shuddering breath. Pam and one of the men held the blanket at length. One held the rope. Roxy placed a hand on the door.

Chaos ensued in a very short time. As they threw the barricade open. Adam turned towards them. Shrieking his outrage as he fired a half grown tongue towards them. Snagging Roxy's ankle, it dragged her towards it. Jacobs hand coiled the tongue around it's self before he hauled the smaller man towards him.

Someone yelled for the blanket, Pam lurched forward dragging her partner with her. Somewhere in the fray the rope was secured around their attacker. They dragged the bound and near gagged prey outward. Only minor scrapes and bruises to show for their trouble.

Adam was secured in the back of an old junker, Jacob leaned his head on the roof. "I'm... I want to do this in private. Somewhere... special. You know a good spot?"

Roxy nodded. Slapping his arm for attention. The smoker in the back let out an indignant yowl. "Yeah. Follow this road to the other end. Turn left up that old logging trail. There's a nice spot you can see the whole town from."

Pam paused. Watching the man clamber in, check the bullets in his gun again. Then turn to them. "Will you need this car later? I don't want to leave potentially infectious zombie guts in it." Both women shook their heads.

"If you make too much of a mess we'll just have you scrub it out before you go." The lanky woman smirked. With a quick nod, he turned the key. It took three tries before the machine coughed into life and puttered sadly down the road.

Thirty minutes passed. On what should have been a fifteen minute trip. The troupe assumed Jacob needed time to say his farewells. Surrounding the beat up truck the men would be departing in, they regaled one another with stories.

"No. I'm sorry girls. There's no way you took on a fucking Tank and lived." The man laughed.

"Hey, point blank shot to the face will kill damn near anything. Short of a literal rock." Pam joined in. Shrugging. "Anyways. That's how my leg got so fucked."

The other man shook his head with a sigh. "I mean... It's not the craziest thing we've seen. Remember that Jokey with the ax Tom?" He gave a short chuckle.

"Infected don't use tools." Pam deadpanned. Staring at the two with suspicion. Giving no room for questions. Roxy, however, gave them a curious tilt of the head.

"I shit you not. This one did. Not well mind you. But he had-" A gunshot was heard, and an uneasy sigh left the four. Until the second shot was heard. There was no room for further discussion after that.

"Maybe it was a double tap? You know. Just to make sure?"

"Jake doesn't play like that. He... He and Adam." He trailed off.

The other one, Tom, punched their vehicle. "Shit! Dammit! FUCK! Selfish son of a bitch!"

Roxy hung her head, mumbling a soft prayer for the both of them. Pam, however, just sighed. She started for the house. "Let's... Get a shovel. They'll draw creeps in for miles if we don't."

There wasn't much more to do, after all that. After the other man calmed somewhat the two were buried where they lay. Pam sat with Tom, sorting through his supplies. "I'm sorry about your friend, it's a damn shame. Also hinders you guys a bit, but Rox and I have made it so far. And we're a couple of scrawny ass women covered in injuries. You two should be fine."

"I won't let you go alone." Tom muttered. He was busy staring off towards the mountain.

"Tough shit. We don't know either of you. And the way your buddy was looking at us? Well. Let's just say I'm not going to take a chance."

After another shaking breath, Tom scrubbed a hand over his face and cleared his throat. "It's what Jacob always said to Adam. I won't let you go alone. Guess it was further than we thought." Pam was silent for a while. A solemn nod was the most she could offer.

By the end of the day, both men left town. Roxy was subtly following behind in a quiet vehicle. Leaving Pam to look after the farm. Cows, chickens, pets, and the Zombie. Pam chucked the frozen left overs into the pen. Watching as he chased down each bite.

A small chunk rolled between the bars. Giving Pam a laugh. As she stood to toe it back into play, Pam caught an odd behavior. The Hunter snapped a twig from one of his climbing branches, and hobbled across the cage. Pam watched in surprise and horror as he started to maneuver the lost chunk towards himself.

Quietly, Pam slunk from the room, and didn't stop walking until she reached the house. Finding a hot pot of stew. Clean dishes. A disgruntled wet cat, and it's dry as a bone sibling. And Roxy. Who was sitting quietly at the table. Pam found her seat and joined her.

"Shit day huh?" Roxy sighed.

Pam just nodded, licked her lips, and spoke. "They do use tools."

"What?"

"I just... saw the hunter use a twig, to retrieve something. They... Use tools." The taller woman was shaking by now. Roxy was silent for a while. They ate quietly that night.


End file.
